


How to Fuck Up a Lineup

by Lumelle



Series: Naomi-Chan [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alpha Sanada Genichirou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Omega Atobe Keigo, Scent Marking, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-09 07:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13476579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: When Oshitari notices something off with Atobe, things get complicated fast. Sanada wants to take responsibility, Atobe is working through his own childhood issues, and nobody is willing to even pretend that the relationship between the King and the Emperor was any kind of a secret to begin with.The stakes at Nationals have never been higher as it's not just the title on the line -- there is also the matter of which team's colors the baby will be wearing.





	1. In Which Yuushi Is Right

**Author's Note:**

> This started as an off-hand joke and proceeded to torment me for a week and a half until it was done. X_x

Honestly, Yuushi wasn’t sure why he was getting involved.

Sure, he counted Atobe as a friend. They’d been regulars in the same club for over five years now, and with someone like Atobe, at that point you could either be his friend or be plotting murder, and that had never been Yuushi’s style. At the same time… well. Atobe could be a stubborn bastard sometimes — okay, most of the time — so voluntarily getting involved in his personal business was not always a good idea even for friends.

Yet here he was, hanging around as the rest of the regulars were packing up to leave. Gakuto gave him a curious look, but Yuushi shooed him off. The less audience they had, the smaller the chance of a meltdown.

“So, what is it?”

Yuushi blinked. Atobe was still looking over the practice schedule, Kabaji waiting for him like a loyal shadow. Apparently he wasn’t entirely focused on the intricacies of training, though. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please. You’ve been looking at me all day like you have something to say, and now you’re standing there like an idiot.” Atobe folded the schedule and stuck it into his pocket, turning to face Yuushi. “Out with it.”

“You know, you’re really annoying when you get observant.” Yuushi waited a beat, just long enough for Atobe to smirk, before he went on. “Which is why it’s even more annoying when you’re being oblivious.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Atobe lifted his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You’ve been acting weird lately.” Well, weirder than usual for Atobe, anyway. “You’re snappier than usual, and you’re complaining about headaches all the time.”

“Brilliant deductions.” Atobe snorted. “It’s almost as though having headaches isn’t going to put me in a good mood.”

“That’s not all of it, though.” Goodness knew a moody Atobe was not noteworthy on its own. “You also get tired more easily, and you’re even more picky about your food than usual. The other day you even got mad at Jirou because the smell of his snack made you queasy.”

Atobe bristled at the observations. “What exactly is your point?”

“Funny you should ask.” Yuushi smirked, opening the zipper of his tennis bag. Reaching in, he took out the object he’d stowed away inside. “As it happens, all that reminded me of how my sis-in-law was when she was expecting.”

Atobe gave Yuushi a disbelieving gaze. “You’re joking.”

“Afraid not.” Yuushi waved the pregnancy test in Atobe’s face. “Look, just take it. Humor me. This comes up negative, you can tell everyone how I’m a sexist idiot who thinks that any time an omega gets moody they must be pregnant.”

Atobe glared at him for a moment, then snatched the test from his hand. “You are an idiot regardless.”

“Sure, sure. Insulting me won’t change anything, though.”

Atobe threw him one last glare, then stalked toward the bathroom. Kabaji shot a concerned glance after him, then looked at Yuushi.

“He’s also been dizzy sometimes.” Kabaji shook his head slowly. “I told him to go to the doctor, but… he’s stubborn.”

“You’re telling me.” Yuushi sighed. “He’s never been great about admitting when he’s not doing fine.”

“Usu.” And really, if Kabaji was saying anything that could be taken as criticism of Atobe, it was definitely true.

It took a while for Atobe to get back, certainly longer than it would require for the test to work. As he finally returned, he was staring at the test stick in his hand, looking slightly pale.

“Should I even ask about the result?” Yuushi was not feeling smug. Absolutely not.

“This can’t be true.” Atobe shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Please don’t tell me I have to give you the birds and bees talk, now.” Yuushi lifted his eyebrows. “You see, when a pretty omega captain and a stubborn alpha vice-captain love each other very much…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Right. Which was why Atobe’s cheeks were flushed all of a sudden. “Besides, there must be some mistake. I think I would know if I’d had someone around for my last heat.”

“Uh. You do know it’s possible to get pregnant outside heats, right? Sure, the chances are much lower, but it can happen.” Atobe was awfully quiet. “…You didn’t know.”

“How was I supposed to? I know how heats work, surely that should be enough.” Atobe folded his arms, looking defensive.

“Evidently not.” Yuushi wasn’t smirking. This was a serious matter, and amusement at his captain’s expense would not help at all. Even so, surely he couldn’t be blamed for being the slightest bit amused. It was nice to see at least some evidence that even Atobe Keigo was only human. “Anyway, how this happened isn’t the important bit here. Rather, you should probably focus more on what you’re going to do next.”

“I’m keeping it.” The answer was immediate, with no hesitation whatsoever. “I don’t care what anyone else says.”

“Well, that’s a start, at least.” Yuushi nodded. “You should probably go see a doctor to figure out the details.”

“Right. I’ll do that.” Atobe sighed, running a hand over his face. “…Don’t tell anyone for now.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” It wasn’t his place to do so. “You might want to think of telling the rest of the regulars once you’ve got it confirmed, though. Everyone’s going to want to help, y’know.”

“I’ll think about it.” What, no immediate backlash about how Atobe clearly didn’t need any help? He must have been pretty shaken. “Now, get lost. Unless you’d want to be in charge of locking up?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Yuushi zipped up his bag, smirking as he adjusted his glasses. “So, when are you telling Sanada?”

“I told you to get out.” Aw, such a harsh glare. It was good to know Atobe was still Atobe despite everything.

Yuushi couldn’t help but still smirk as he headed out, brushing off Gakuto’s questions. Things were going to get pretty interesting soon.

*

It was kind of amusing, Gakuto decided, how the regular team was basically the same it had been three years ago.

Of course, it wasn’t that strange, really. Atobe had more or less dragged them all to the club alongside himself when they started high school, and the younger ones had joined the following year. Aside from a very stressful two weeks when Ootori had considered quitting and Shishido had been on the verge of a breakdown as a result, they’d basically settled right back into the familiar dynamics.

That still didn’t make it any less hilarious to see Jirou nodding off against Kabaji’s shoulder like they were still in middle school, though. Some things just didn’t change.

“So, what are we doing here?” Shishido grunted. “If you’ve got something to say, couldn’t you have just made an announcement during practice? No reason to drag us here early.”

“Except what I have to say is only relevant information to the regulars, for the time being at least.” Atobe lifted his eyebrows. “If you don’t think you should be here, by all means, the door is right there.”

“You’re such an ass.” Shishido scowled. “So, what’s this super important secret, then?”

“I will not be playing in the Nationals.” This was met with stunned silence, allowing Atobe to continue. “Possibly not even Kantou, though that remains to be seen. I will continue acting as captain and participating in practice, though.”

“What? Why?” Gakuto blinked. “Are you sick or something?” Was that what Oshitari’d wanted to talk to Atobe about?

“But then he couldn’t come to practice, either. Right?” Ootori frowned, looking worried.

“I’m not sick, no. However, I am expecting physical changes that would make competitive matches risky. During practice matches I can take breaks as needed, as well as actually expect my opponents not to do anything that might harm the baby.” Atobe’s expression stayed perfectly calm, as though he was simply discussing the weather. Bloody show-off.

“Wait, baby?” Hiyoshi frowned. “What baby?”

“Mine, obviously.” Atobe smirked. “The one I’m expecting.”

“Atobe’s going to be a daddy?” Jirou was instantly awake, practically squealing. “Oh my god, that’s amazing! I can’t wait to see the baby!”

“You got knocked up?” Shishido blinked. “What the fuck? You’re basically handing the cup to Rikkai!”

“Now, that would depend on how the rest of you handle the tournament, ahn? Though that’s assuming you can focus more on your tennis than on my reproductive choices.” Atobe was still smirking, though there was a tight edge to it.

“Hey, I’m more than happy to keep my nose out of your uterus. Just don’t expect us to change any diapers.”

“Oh, please. You’re probably going to be first in line to beg to hold the kid once it arrives.” Yuushi chuckled. “I suppose it’s up to me to say congratulations, since everyone else is still processing the news.”

“Yuushi! You knew about this.” Gakuto didn’t even bother to make it a question.

“I might have suspected.” Bullshit. That smirk clearly belonged to someone who’d known all along.

For all his grumpiness, Shishido joined the rest of them in congratulating Atobe. Jirou was full of questions, of course, and Kabaji was actually smiling, and all in all things were going quite pleasantly until Taki made the mistake of asking the wrong question.

“So, have you told Sanada yet?”

Atobe’s face instantly shifted into an annoyed look. Which Gakuto supposed was better than heartbreak, but still not pleasant to those of them unfortunate enough to be present. “Right. I think it’s about time we get started on practice, ahn?”

Clearly, not everything was fine. And they’d find out what the problem was, whether Atobe approved or not.

Before that, though, they’d have to get through morning practice with an annoyed Atobe. What a delight.

*

“Oi, Sanada!”

For a moment, Sanada found himself weighing the pros and cons of ignoring Niou’s shout. On one hand, it could be nothing important, in which case he would just be wasting his time. On the other hand… this was Niou. Ignoring him was not exactly risk-free.

“What?” Sanada sighed as he turned around, preparing himself for any manner of mischief. Even after five years, Niou still hadn’t given up on his apparent mission of driving Sanada insane.

“You’ve got a visitor.” Niou was pointing to the edge of the tennis courts. As Sanada looked over, he spotted the familiar uniform of Hyoutei High.

Great. It was bad enough that everyone was getting on his case about Atobe, but apparently anything to do with Hyoutei was his responsibility now. “Why do you think it’s got anything to do with me?”

“Please. You’re the one with the love affair.” Niou waited a beat, just long enough for Sanada to frown, then added, “Besides, one of the first-years says he asked for you.”

Right. Maybe yelling at Niou could wait a moment longer. “Still not happy with you.”

“When have you ever been?” Niou seemed rather unconcerned, grinning at him. “Now, shoo. Unless you’d rather have him spy on us?”

And, honestly. Niou would pay for his disrespect later.

Grumbling to himself, Sanada marched to the side of the courts. The other club members gave him a wide berth, which was just as well. He could only take one headache at a time.

“What do you want?” This was… Shishido, he was pretty sure. The bad-tempered alpha who had a cap. Sanada couldn’t help but approve of that, if nothing else.

“You need to talk to Atobe.” Well, so much for pleasantries. Not that Sanada had any patience for that.

“I’m fairly sure Atobe is perfectly capable of contacting me himself if he so wishes.” Which he apparently didn’t, considering he hadn’t answered Sanada’s calls for a week, now. Not that Sanada cared, of course. It certainly had nothing to do with his annoyed mood.

“Yeah, well, he’s being an idiot as usual. Still, the two of you need to talk, and since he’s not doing that, you should.” Shishido stuck his hands in his pockets, glaring.

“I don’t see any reason to.” Sanada folded his arms. “I have no business with Atobe.”

“Look, I know we’re supposed to pretend that we don’t know you’re screwing him, but fuck that. Everyone knows you’re a thing, and I don’t have the time to dance around that shit. Just… talk to Atobe. Go meet him if he won’t take your calls. Be a fucking adequate boyfriend or whatever.”

“And I assume there’s a reason I should?” He eyed Shishido challengingly. All he got in response was a glare. “Right. I take it we’re done here, then.” Sanada turned to go. He wasn’t going to waste any more time with Hyoutei idiots.

“Atobe’s pregnant.”

Sanada froze mid-stride, then spun around to glare at Shishido. “What?”

“Atobe is pregnant.” Right. So he hadn’t heard wrong. “He’s probably going to kill me for telling you, by the way, so thanks for that. Nobody but the regulars is supposed to know yet.”

“Why did you come here, then?” Sanada was fairly sure he should have felt, well, something. Maybe it was just taking a moment to get through to him.

“Because Atobe’s being a stubborn ass and he’s got it in his head that if you find out you’re going to hate him. Which is ridiculous, obviously. If you were going to hate him it would’ve happened already.” Shishido shook his head. “And, well. I’ve got an omega boyfriend, too. If he got pregnant, I’d want to know.”

“Right.” Was that why Atobe hadn’t answered his phone? Did he really think so lowly of Sanada? “…Ah. Thank you for telling me.”

“Just. Talk to him, okay? He claims he’s fine but it’s obvious that’s not true.” Shishido paused. “I hope I don’t have to tell you not to be a fucking asshole about this.”

“Don’t worry.” Sanada tugged at his cap. “I’d like to think I’m a man with some sort of decency, at least.”

“Good. I’d rather not have us disqualified because Kabaji decides to snap your neck.” Shishido nodded, apparently satisfied for now. “Well, that’s all I had to say. If Atobe asks, I didn’t tell you shit.”

“Right.” Sanada paused. “…Thank you.”

“Just don’t be an ass.” With another nod, Shishido turned around and left.

For a moment Sanada stood still, processing the news. Atobe was pregnant. Atobe was going to have a child.

Atobe was going to have his child.

He turned and strode off, ignoring the curious gazes he got for this. He headed to the nearest faucet, turning it on. Taking off his cap, he bent down to stick his head under the cold stream.

“Genichirou?” Renji’s voice broke through the water running past his ears. “Are you all right?” As he didn’t answer immediately, Renji went for the next obvious question. “Is Atobe all right?”

Closing the faucet, Sanada stood up again, shaking the water off. His head felt clearer now. “I don’t have data for you just yet, I’m afraid.” Putting on his cap again, he smirked. “But if you can cover for me for the rest of practice, I’d like to get to work on finding out.”

He was going to owe some very good explanations to both Renji and Seiichi, but hopefully getting this sorted out would be worth all the trouble.


	2. In Which Sanada Grins

It probably said something that Sanada didn’t even need to state his business for the house staff to immediately volunteer to take him to Keigo-sama. He wasn’t sure exactly what it said, but definitely something.

He wasn’t terribly surprised to find Atobe at the tennis courts, practising his serve. He didn’t pay attention to the approach until the maid accompanying Sanada spoke up.

“Keigo-sama? A guest.”

Atobe served one last ball before turning to look at them. He dismissed the maid with a nod, then frowned at Sanada. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I could have informed you if you actually picked up my calls.” He wasn’t trying to be accusatory, but that might have bled through.

“I’ve been busy.” Atobe pushed a lock of hair from his face, walking closer. “Busy… thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

Atobe seemed about to speak, then gave Sanada a sharp look. Whatever he saw on Sanada’s face made him frown. “Right. What have you heard?”

“Enough that I decided to come by to see you rather than wait for you to answer your phone.” Sanada folded his arms. “Apparently you have been in a somewhat foul mood.”

“So you decided to subject yourself to my moods directly.” Atobe was still frowning. “Why?”

“Because I consider you… important.” This was never easy. Atobe seemed to have no problem with waxing lyrical about his feelings, while Sanada usually focused more on actions to express himself. “And if something is wrong with you, I’d like to know if I can help.”

“Nothing is wrong.” Atobe met Sanada’s gaze defiantly for a while, until he finally relented and sighed. “Though… that doesn’t mean there’s nothing going on.”

Sanada nodded. “Go on.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” And still challenging him. Typical. “I don’t know what my meddling players have told you, but right now you can still claim ignorance.”

“Keigo.” He didn’t often use Atobe’s first name, but this seemed important enough. “No matter what, I am not going to turn away from you. Not unless you tell me to go.”

Atobe was quiet for a moment, not looking at Sanada. Finally, his hand slid down to his stomach in what was probably an unconscious gesture. “I’m pregnant.” He met Sanada’s gaze, giving him a humorless smirk. “Which you clearly already knew.” Well. No point in denying that. It wasn’t like he could fool Atobe’s Insight, anyway.

“How?” That seemed the most pertinent question. “I know you were alone for your last heat.” After all, Sanada hadn’t been with him, and he wasn’t about to insult Atobe by suggesting there might have been someone else.

“I asked my doctor the same thing.” Atobe sighed. “Turns out that while the perineal opening is mostly closed outside heats, sperm can still get in if there’s semen in the general area. And to complete the equation, mating tie can trigger ovulation even in anal sex, particularly in long-term relationships.”

“Ah.” He was doing his best not to flush, but it wasn’t easy with Atobe speaking so casually of intimate matters. “…I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like you’re the only one to blame.” Atobe lifted his eyebrows, folding his arms. “I’m not some wide-eyed innocent seduced by your wily ways, you know. As far as I’m aware, everything we’ve done has been consensual.”

“Even so. You are the one currently dealing with the consequences.”

“And you plan to change that state of affairs, then?” Atobe’s stance was defiant, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes that pained Sanada.

“…I hope you will allow that.” Sanada relaxed his own stance. He wasn’t sure if it would help Atobe relax, but he had to try at least. “I told you I’m not going to turn away from you, and I certainly have no intention of running from my responsibilities.”

“Why am I not surprised that you would word it like that?” Atobe made a face. “I do not need you to make an honorable man of me, or whatever it is you are thinking of.”

“Is it truly that unthinkable that I might wish to marry you?” He was doing his best not to feel hurt at being rejected before he’d even managed to make an offer. Really, he was. It was difficult with Atobe’s sharp eyes on him.

“Not necessarily. However, I have no desire to be someone’s burden out of duty. And I certainly don’t need you to come to my rescue like a big strong alpha knight from a fairytale just because you managed to get me pregnant.”

“Oh, for the…” Sanada took off his cap, tugging at his hair in frustration. “I want to marry you, all right? I want to marry you and start a family with you, have wanted that for a while. This is an excuse, not a reason.”

“You’ve never said anything.” There was a bit of disbelief in Atobe’s voice.

“I didn’t want you to feel like I was pushing you into anything.” Sanada sighed. “You’re always so independent and headstrong. I figured you wouldn’t want to be tied down to… well. Someone like me.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” There was an odd look on Atobe’s face. It was like he was trying to see right through Sanada.

“Isn’t it obvious?” It was certainly clear to Sanada. “I’m serious and old-fashioned and boring. You’re, well… you.” Atobe Keigo, the bright spark who would not allow himself to be dragged down by anyone.

“Idiot.” Atobe stepped closer, his voice softer now. “If I thought you were boring, do you really think I would have stuck with you for so long?”

“I don’t know how your mind works.” Wasn’t sure he’d ever truly figure it out, no matter how long he spent getting to know Atobe.

“Then don’t try to make assumptions on what I’m going to think, ahn?” Well. He supposed that was fair enough. “Believe me, I’m capable of telling you what I want.”

“What do you want, then?” He wanted to know, no, needed to know. “What do you need of me? Because whatever it is, you only need to name it.”

“I want this child.” Atobe’s voice was still soft, but there wasn’t any sign of hesitation. “I know most people probably don’t think this is the right time or right circumstances, but I don’t care.” Atobe paused. “I want you, in my life and my child’s life. However, if it’s just out of obligation, I’d rather not have you at all.” Atobe touched his still flat stomach as he spoke. And that look in his eyes…

Well. Sanada was not an expert in emotional matters, and he certainly didn’t know how Atobe’s mind worked, but he liked to at least believe he had some sort of an idea on what was important to Atobe.

“Atobe.” Sanada stepped closer, reaching out to touch the side of Atobe’s face. “I know you can do this on your own if you wish. It’s also obvious there’s nothing material I could offer that you don’t already have. However.” He brushed his thumb along the curve of Atobe’s cheekbone. “I swear on my honor that if you allow me, I will do everything in my power to make sure neither you nor our child will ever doubt my love. You are not an obligation. This child is not an obligation. You are both wonderful gifts that I’m not sure I deserve, but I will strive to prove myself worthy of you.”

Atobe eyed him in silence for a moment, eyes sharp as though they were measuring each other over the net. Finally, Atobe leaned into his touch, only a little. “…You really mean that.”

“I do.” He felt slightly stupid for having spoken such emotional words, they were hardly his forte after all, but he supposed Atobe needed them right now. “I want you, Atobe Keigo. I want to spend my life with you. Not out of duty or a sense of obligation, but because you are a beautiful, stubborn, utterly mad creature and I want you to be mine.”

Atobe took another moment just watching him, no doubt studying him for any sign of hesitation or untruth. Finally he reached his arms up around Sanada’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss.

Sanada was happy to comply with the demand for a kiss, had rather missed this in fact. There was nothing quite like Atobe’s lips against his, Atobe’s body pressed close to his. Sanada thought of the tiny life that had started to grow inside that perfect body, the little spark of hope that might grow into something miraculous if they were fortunate, and he couldn’t help but hold Atobe even tighter.

He was fairly sure he tasted tears in the kiss, but that just meant he had to distract Atobe some more.

*

“Can I ask you something?”

“You aren’t usually shy about that sort of thing.” Atobe chuckled, resting his head on Sanada’s shoulder. Sanada’s hand was sliding along Atobe’s stomach again and again, as though trying to find some sign of his pregnancy. Atobe had tried to tell him there was probably nothing to feel yet, but Sanada was insistent.

“This is rather… personal.” Sanada waited for Atobe to make a sound in response, then went on. “Why did you decide to keep the child?”

Atobe didn’t mean to tense up, but it was inevitable. “Why do you ask?”

“Don’t take me wrong, I have absolutely no problem with this.” Sanada’s hand came up to touch his cheek before travelling down to his stomach again. “I was just wondering about your reasons.”

Atobe was quiet for a while, considering his response. When he spoke, he did so in slow, considered words. This wasn’t something he was used to saying aloud. “When I was a child, I used to wonder why my parents ever had me.” Sanada was quiet, not interrupting. “Not to say that they were cruel or mean, but they were all too happy to leave me in the care of servants. I only got attention from them when they needed an heir to parade out to some formal event or another.”

Sanada’s hand stilled, his fingers slowly spreading to cover nearly the whole span of Atobe’s stomach.

“I still can’t truly see them as family. We get along well enough when we have to interact, but that’s about it. I’ve come to understand that they didn’t want me as such, they just needed a child, and I was born to accomplish that, perfectly on schedule of course. They don’t dislike or mistreat me, I suppose they might even be proud of me, but it’s rather like I’m an exotic pet they like to show off.” Atobe sighed. “I decided years ago that no child of mine would feel that way. I’d much rather welcome an accident than bring a planned child into the world just to tick a box on some list of expected accomplishments.”

“Hn.” Sanada was quiet for a while, though his hand resumed its small caresses. “Basically, you want a regular family.”

“I suppose you could put it like that, yes.” Atobe nuzzled at Sanada’s throat. Usually he tried to avoid getting scented, but he supposed the time for secrecy was more or less over, anyway. “Perhaps I’m just being childish, trying to make up for what I missed in my childhood. Either way, I have an opportunity to do so, and I see no reason to pass it by.”

“There are people who would think being seventeen and still in high school would be reason enough.” There was no judgment in Sanada’s voice, though, nothing but perhaps a hint of amusement.

“I’m in a better situation than most people my age, though.” Hey, he did like to think the had some self-awareness, at least. “I’m obviously financially secure, and if there’s some trouble with school, I can afford private tutors. Even in the unlikely case that my parents decide to cut me off and cause a scandal, I have an inheritance from my grandmother that they can’t touch.”

“And you have me.” Sanada’s lips brushed against his hair. “I suspect that you would be fine even without my help, but I plan to be here anyway.”

“You would, you stubborn man.” Atobe paused. “How is your family going to react?”

“Knowing them? They will probably yell at me for being irresponsible and then start fussing over you.” Sanada kissed his hair again. “And if you need any assurances that this will be the case… well. My nephew was born not quite six months after my brother got married, and the most trouble my brother ever gets for it is having it brought up at family events.”

“I thought your family was supposed to be serious and old-fashioned.” He was teasing, mostly, but it was also rather unexpected for a family such as Sanadas.

“Oh, certainly. But there isn’t any problem if nobody’s running from their responsibilities.” Sanada poked at his side before he could even protest. “And before you get started, I am not sticking with you just to fulfill my responsibilities.”

“You’d better not.” Atobe yawned. He was proud of his stamina, sure, but Sanada’s spawn was apparently making him tire more easily than usual, and besides Sanada had certainly done his best to wear him out more directly. “It’s probably useless to try to be covert about our relationship anymore, huh.”

“Like any of our regulars are actually still in the dark.” Sanada snorted. “There is one thing we need to decide, though.”

“I would think there are many things to decide, but I’m listening.”

“When we do tell people about our relationship… do I get to introduce you as my boyfriend, or my fiancé?”

Now, Atobe pushed himself up to one elbow just so he could glare at Sanada. “If that was your take on a proposal, it could use some work. A lot of work, actually.” He then allowed himself to smile. “But if that’s truly what you want, and not just what you think you should do… then, yes. I will marry you.”

For all that he’d thought he was prepared for almost anything, the look of disbelieving happiness on Sanada’s face still took his breath away.

*

Something was going on with Sanada, and Niou did not like it.

It probably wasn’t something bad for Sanada, though the surprise visit from a Hyoutei player the day before could have suggested otherwise. Niou was pretty sure not even Sanada would be smirking if something bad was going on with his lover boy, but, really. Sanada smirking was never a good sign for those around him.

Kirihara apparently had still not gotten the memo, though, since he couldn’t stop bugging Sanada about it. “Hey, vice-captain? Why are you so happy today?” Kirihara smirked like the brat he still was. “Did you have a good date or something?”

Niou half expected Sanada to turn grumpy all of a sudden and send Kirihara running laps. Instead, the smirk only got wider. “Something like that, I suppose.”

“Wait, what?” Marui popped a gum bubble, turning to stare at Sanada. The rest of the regulars all turned to do the same. “Does that mean we can all stop pretending we don’t notice when you and Atobe are making eyes at each other?”

“As though you’ve ever actually done that.” The smirk still didn’t disappear. Okay, something weird was definitely going on. “But, yes. We have decided to be open about our relationship.”

“Oh?” Yukimura smiled, looking far too amused. “And is there any particular reason for such a change of heart? After all, you have been quite adamant that you should not let people know. Which has always been quite unnecessary, you know. It’s not like anyone who actually knows either of you would think that you might go easy on each other just because you’re involved.”

“Well, it would be rather useless to try to deny it much longer.” And now, wasn’t that a curious statement. Almost as curious as the way Sanada glanced around as though to make sure nobody but regulars were within earshot. “The truth is… I’m going to be a father.”

Niou found himself wishing he’d had a drink at hand so he could have spat it out. Though really, the reactions from the rest of the team almost made up for it. Jackal looked like he was about to faint, and even Yanagi was somewhat taken aback. Yukimura kept smiling, though Niou wasn’t sure if that was because he’d been told earlier or if he was just that committed to looking unflappable.

“Vice-captain!” Kirihara’s voice went about an octave higher than Niou had though possible since his voice broke. “You and Atobe are going to have a baby?”

“Yes.” Sanada was grinning, now, and that was somehow even more terrifying than the earlier smug smirk. The next moment it was slightly lessened by the impact of Kirihara launching himself at Sanada in a fierce hug. It was a rather hilarious sight, especially since while Kirihara wasn’t quite as big as Sanada, he was definitely not a little kid anymore, either.

“Congratulations! When’s the baby going to be born? Do we get to see it? That’s so amazing!” Niou would have thought Sanada was more than immune to Kirihara by now, but even he seemed stunned about the sudden onslaught.

“Well, I suppose there’s no need to worry about Akaya getting jealous over the baby.” Yukimura chuckled. “Rather, it’s probably a good thing Atobe can afford the security to fend off any kidnapping attempts.”

“Like he’s going to need that,” Marui snorted. “Knowing Sanada, it’d take a medium-sized army to get at something precious to him.” He popped another gum bubble, looking contemplative. “You think they make baby-sized baseball caps?”

And, really, of all the reasons why Sanada might be grinning, it could have been a lot worse.


	3. In Which the Family Finds Out

“I need some advice.”

“Oh?” Souta lifted his eyebrows, glancing at his little brother in the kitchen doorway. Genichirou was obviously trying to seem at ease, but that frown wasn’t exactly helping. “Sorry, you know I can’t tell forehand from backhand.”

“Very funny.” Genichirou scowled, because he was eighteen going on eighty. “Not everything in my life is about tennis, you know.”

“Really? Could have fooled me.” As Genichirou moved to leave, Souta sighed. “Come on, sit down. And don’t look like that. Your face is going to freeze that way.”

“That attitude is why Sasuke is such a brat.” Even so, Genichirou did sit down at the table opposite to him. He looked terribly tense, still.

“He’s a bit snarky for his age, sure, but not being as serious about everything as you are doesn’t make him a brat.” Souta rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee. “So. What is it your dear big brother can help you with? Don’t be shy, now.”

“Hn.” Genichirou looked almost embarrassed. “It’s… personal.”

“Is it a love problem? I bet it’s a love problem.” Souta grinned as Genichirou looked away. “Oh, this is great. Come on, what do you need? Help with confessing? Date ideas? Who is it you’ve got your eye on? Don’t worry, I promise not to tell anyone.”

“Ah.” Genichirou drew a deep breath. “How did you tell mother and father about Sasuke?”

Well. That was… that was something. “Seriously?” Souta blinked.

“You think I would joke about this?” Genichirou sighed, actually taking his silly cap off for once.

“Joke about it? No. But you also don’t seem like the type to just up and get someone pregnant on a whim.” He tilted his head to the side. “Please tell me this wasn’t some one night thing.” Not that it seemed like Genichirou’s style, but then, none of this did.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Genichirou scowled, clasping his hands together on the table. “We’ve been together since middle school.”

“News to me.” Suddenly, Souta wished he’d had something much stronger than coffee. “And, following from that, I’d recommend you start by actually introducing your partner to the family.”

“You have met him.” Clearly, Genichirou wasn’t too happy to be talking about this. And here Souta actually wanted to help him.

“Is it Yukimura?” Hey, it was a reasonable enough guess.

“No, it’s not.” Genichirou was quiet for a moment, no doubt pondering the possibility of having Souta guess through the whole list of his acquaintances who had ever visited the Sanada household. “…It’s Atobe.”

“Wait, the rich kid?” Souta had only met Atobe Keigo once, but he had certainly made an impression. At the time Souta had wondered why exactly Genichirou would spend any time with someone who was so very much his opposite on everything except the single-minded obsession with tennis. He supposed this explained a lot.

“Yes, that would be him.” And Genichirou still looked reluctant to admit that.

“Well, in that case, let me rephrase. You should start by actually introducing your partner as, well, your partner.” Souta chuckled. “And just so you know, it’s probably best to bring that up before dropping the grandkid bomb.”

“Hn.” Genichirou nodded. “I was thinking of inviting him over for a family dinner.”

“Not a bad idea. Particularly since it’ll alert everyone that you’re going to have some news to share, considering you never do that.” Souta grinned at the unimpressed look he got. “So. What are your plans? You know, just so I can provide backup as needed.”

“We’re getting married.” At last, Genichirou’s expression softened a little. “Not because of the baby, Keigo would not stand for that. Just… I want to share my life with him, and since our relationship is obviously going to become public, it’s about time to make that official.”

“Good. That’s going to do a lot to help convince people that you’re serious about this. Not that you could ever be anything but serious, but, you know.” Souta smiled. “…Hey, Genichirou?”

“Yes?” Most of the tension had bled out now, and Genichirou was very nearly smiling, now. That was definitely a rare thing to see.

“Congratulations.” Souta reached out to touch Genichirou’s hand. “Parenthood isn’t easy, but it’s going to be the best thing you’ve ever done.”

Genichirou ducked his head, but that was definitely a smile there, and, well. Souta was in favor of anything that made his brother look like that.

*

“Can I help with anything?”

“Ah, Genichirou?” His mother turned to smile at him. “If the table’s set, there isn’t anything else to do right now.” Her eyes took on a slightly mischievous look. “Nervous, are you?”

“Hn.” He desperately wished for his cap to tug at, but his parents were of the opinion that it was not appropriate wear for a proper family dinner. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Well, you are going to introduce your young man to us at last, aren’t you?” His surprise must have shown on his face, because she scoffed. “Oh, please, Genichirou. You asked if you could invite your friend over when the whole family is having dinner together, and it’s not Seiichi-kun or Renji-kun? And now you’re acting like you’re expecting a bomb to go off. Of course it’s going to be your boyfriend.”

“…Ah.” He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that his mother of all people would see through him. “That’s… not incorrect.”

“Of course not. Don’t underestimate your old mother, now.” She shook her head. “It’s about time, you know. We were starting to wonder why you wouldn’t bring him around earlier.”

“I haven’t even told you I’m seeing anyone!” Was he really that transparent?

“No, but you are occasionally staring at your phone like it’s a new tennis racket. Considering we couldn’t even convince you to keep your phone on you, that definitely means something.”

Sanada was going to say something, not that he could truly refute any of her points, when he was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. This was followed by quick footsteps and Sasuke’s cry of, “I’ll get it!”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanada rushed after him. Goodness knew nothing good would follow from letting Sasuke ambush Atobe.

He could have sworn he heard his mother snickering behind him.

Unfortunately Sasuke had too much of a lead for Sanada to pass him by, and he managed to throw the door open just before Sanada caught him. Atobe seemed quite unaffected by this, lifting an eyebrow.

“Well, well. I suppose I should be happy that you are all so eager to welcome me.” Atobe smirked. “You would be… Sasuke-kun, right? I don’t believe we have met.”

“Right.” Sasuke grinned, completely ignoring Sanada’s glare. The brat. “And you’re the old man’s boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“Assuming you mean this fine gentleman here, that would be the case, yes. Unless there are some news he’d like to share.” Atobe smirked at Sanada, unaffected by his scowl. “Now, Sasuke-kun, could I trouble you to get these to some water?” Atobe flourished a colorful bunch of flowers, because he was Atobe. Of course.

Sanada wasn’t about to give Sasuke the chance to refuse, or find some snarky comment. He basically snatched the flowers from Atobe, shoving them at Sasuke. “Kitchen. Your grandma is there. She’ll get you a vase.”

Sasuke grumbled something, but allowed Sanada to shove him inside and pull the door closed. There’d probably be hell to pay for that later, his nephew was a total brat after all, but it was worth it for a moment’s peace with Atobe.

“You look upset.” Damn Atobe and his Insight.

“I suppose I’m just nervous.” Sanada took a good look at Atobe. “I’d remind you I told you not to dress up, but this is probably casual clothes for you, so I’ll just point out I told you not to bring anything.”

“Did you really expect me to obey that?” Atobe gave him a twirl, because of course he did, showing off his slacks and the shirt that probably cost more than Sanada’s yearly allowance. “And please. You like how I look.”

Sanada grunted, not wanting to confirm that too directly. Atobe knew that anyway. Instead he stepped closer to draw Atobe into an embrace. Atobe’s head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, Sanada’s chin resting on top of it. “…You’re tense.” Now that he was holding Atobe, he could feel the tightness of his shoulders.

Atobe made a non-committal sound, nuzzling at Sanada’s throat. He seemed to rather like getting Sanada’s scent now that they weren’t hiding their relationship anymore. After a moment, Atobe spoke, his voice muffled by Sanada’s chest. “I told my parents.”

“Oh?” Sanada wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Certainly, Atobe’s parents needed to know, and they were planning on telling Sanada’s family today, but the way Atobe was nearly trembling in his arms… “And how did they react?”

“Basically? They gave me a list of dates when they are available if we want them to be at the wedding and a credit card for any related expenses.” Atobe sighed. “I suppose that’s their way of caring.”

Sanada tightened his hold on Atobe. “If that’s the extent of their involvement, that’s their loss.”

“I don’t know what I expected, really,” Atobe murmured. “Maybe some part of me was hoping they would actually show at least some interest in a grandchild. Naive, I know.”

“Well, I can promise you’ll get plenty of interest around here.” Sanada kissed Atobe’s hair. “You feel up to going inside? Because if we don’t go soon, we’re going to get mobbed sooner or later.”

“Right. I’m fine.” Atobe drew away from Sanada just enough to flash one of his usual confident smirks. “Time to show them you actually have human emotions, ahn?”

“This is my family. If anyone has seen me get emotional, it’s them.” Sanada snorted, stepping away. It felt wrong, stepping away from his precious mate, but he had some self-control at least. “Come on. Sasuke has no doubt informed everyone of your arrival by now.”

Atobe, it turned out, was at least fine enough to put on his usual charm. It was almost amusing to watch, really. Most of Sanada’s family had briefly met him at some point or another, but such brief exposure was simply not enough to prepare the regular person for the full force of the whirlwind that was Atobe Keigo. He effortlessly charmed Sanada’s mother, won his father’s favor with some smart comments, was polite enough to impress his grandfather and actually made his sister-in-law giggle by kissing her hand. Even Souta looked somewhat impressed as he stepped to Sanada’s side to murmur at him.

“Okay, I can definitely see what drew you to him. Polite, charming, witty and pretty.” Souta smirked, and Sanada heard the quip coming. “Opposites truly do attract.”

“I’m not going to bother commenting on that.” He knew all too well that he and Atobe were like night and day in most aspects that didn’t have to do with tennis. Arguing with his brother on that point would not help anything.

“Good, because you would lose that argument.” Souta grinned. “Also, stop glaring at them. I highly doubt mom’s going to steal away your mate right in front of your nose. Family liking him is a good thing.”

“I know that.” Sanada sighed. “It’s just…”

“Just difficult to hold back when every instinct you have is telling you to hold him close and growl at any intruders? Yeah, I know.” Souta chuckled at Sanada’s sideways glance. “Hey, just because I fell for a beta doesn’t mean I’m not an alpha anymore. I’ve got the same instincts as you, I’m just not as grumpy and serious about it all.”

“You’re never serious about anything.” Which wasn’t quite fair, really, but it was close enough. Certainly Souta was rather too easy-going for someone who was supposed to be a responsible father and husband. He only proved this by simply chuckling at Sanada’s accusation.

Sanada managed to keep himself from running over to claim Atobe all to himself long enough for them to make it to the actual dinner. He got to sit next to Atobe, and that eased some of the instinctual urge to protect and shelter him from everyone and everything.

“So, Atobe-kun.” Apparently his father was going to be the one to finally address the elephant in the room. “It’s clear you and Genichirou have been involved for a while now.”

“You could say that.” Atobe glanced at Sanada with a mischievous smirk. “I think it was almost three years ago when we decided being merely rivals was not quite enough, naa, Genichirou?”

“Hn.” It wasn’t like he could deny that even if he hadn’t been distracted by the sound of his name dropping from Atobe’s tongue. It was hardly inappropriate, considering the state of their relationship, but it still felt rather… intimate. “Some time after the Nationals that year, I believe.”

“Why am I not surprised you would count time by the tennis schedule?” Souta snorted.

“Well, tennis is what brought is together, so that seems fair enough.” Atobe was still smirking as though he found this all terribly amusing.

“Indeed.” Sanada’s father nodded. “So, as he has never even mentioned being involved with someone… is there a particular reason he would finally choose to introduce you to us?”

Everyone had been looking at them even before this, but now their eyes got even sharper. Sanada cleared his throat. “Ah. About that.”

“Oh, do tell.” Souta was grinning, the smug bastard. Clearly it was no use to expect any support from him.

“The truth is… we are getting married.” For all that he was somewhat nervous, Sanada couldn’t help but feel his lips curling a bit. Just the thought of that was enough to combat some of his nerves. “It took some convincing, but I managed to get Keigo to agree in the end.”

“We’re still a bit undecided on the timing of things.” Atobe’s smirk softened into a smile that was almost nervous, if Atobe Keigo could ever truly be nervous. “Mainly, whether we should have the wedding before or after the baby is born.”

Never let it be said that Atobe couldn’t always find the most dramatic way of doing just about anything. This announcement launched a torrent of questions and comments, congratulations thrown into the mix once his family recovered from the worst of their shock. Sanada’s grandfather even made a quip about how clearly he was taking after his brother in the timing of children, which made Souta cry out in protest. Sasuke joined him, clearly not caring too much for any analysis of his birth and what might have preceded it.

“Well! That’s certainly worth a family gathering.” Sanada’s mother smiled brightly and turned to look at his father. “Darling? Is the spare room still full of those old boxes of yours?”

“I’ve made some dents in the mess. It’s certainly nothing that can’t be sorted out.” His father nodded with a pondering expression. “It could be cleared out in a weekend if I have help.”

Sanada frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Why, Genichirou, your room is hardly big enough for a new family! And we certainly won’t hear of you living apart during such a time.” His mother clucked her tongue. “Really, I can’t believe you hadn’t thought of it yourself! I can’t imagine not seeing my mate for days while expecting.”

“She would know,” his father admitted good-naturedly. “Both times I was pregnant, she got anxious after half a day of not seeing me. It made going to work rather challenging.”

“Ah.” Atobe frowned, looking like he didn’t know how to react. “I wouldn’t wish to be trouble.”

“Nonsense!” Sanada’s grandfather scoffed. “You are both still in school, and in your final year of high school as well. Never mind that it’s your first child. You’ll be glad to have helpful people around, both before and after the baby arrives.”

“Exactly. You are Genichirou’s mate, and that makes you family.” His father smiled. “We’d be poor family indeed if we just congratulated you and then left you to your own devices. Besides, if you think we’re going to pass by on the opportunity to get some extra time with our new grandchild while the two of you are dealing with school, you clearly have a lot to learn.”

Atobe opened his mouth, then closed it again. This happened a couple of times, as though he was struggling to find words. Then, much to Sanada’s shock, he started crying. Atobe wasn’t supposed to cry, not ever, and certainly not while sitting right next to Sanada.

“Ah, that’s almost nostalgic,” Sanada’s mother sighed as Sanada drew Atobe into his arms, hoping to comfort him at least a little. Not that Sanada was good at comforting, but he had to at least try. “Your father also got emotional in early pregnancy.”

That got some feeble protests from Sanada’s father, leading to more conversation, but Sanada didn’t pay attention to any of that. All he had time for was Atobe, his precious mate with their precious child who was clinging to him in tears.

Sanada was going to do everything in his power to make sure Atobe would not ever doubt their value again.


	4. In Which Things Move Forward

“Well, someone looks cheerful.” Oshitari lifted his eyebrows as Atobe marched into the locker room, looking less than pleased.

“Just shut up.” Atobe sighed, throwing the door to his locker open in a rather undignified manner. “I just spent a horrible hour and a half talking with the coach, the school doctor, the study counselor and my homeroom teacher discussing the contents of my uterus.”

“Ouch. That sounds like a fun time.” Gakuto lifted his eyebrows, looking at Atobe even as he was essentially doing splits against the wall, the freak. “So what’s the verdict?”

“What do you think?” Atobe rolled his eyes. “Obviously they kicked me out for setting such a horrible example to the rest of the student body.”

“Bullshit.” Shishido wasn’t going to waste any time getting worried over that. “Even if they were going to voluntarily say goodbye to all the Atobe money, it wouldn’t take them that long to tell you to pack up and leave.”

“How very observant of you.” Atobe flashed a smirk, only to return to his annoyed look right after. “After addressing the issue of how my studies may be affected, the rest of the time was spent figuring out how to make sure this doesn’t lead to a trend of teen pregnancies, or whatever it is they are afraid will happen.”

“Oh?” Ootori blinked, tilting his head in a rather adorable way. “So what did they decide?”

Atobe grimaced. “Essentially? I have to work with the school nurses to outline a curriculum for additional sex ed classes for all students.”

“Address the information gap and have something they can point to if people accuse them of letting you get away scot-free. Makes sense.” Oshitari grinned. “I’d say something about how the information will be useful to you, too, but that’s kind of late by now.”

“I’m glad you’re so amused.” Atobe lifted his eyebrows. “As it happens, the tennis club will have some extra lessons, as clearly I’m an especially bad influence on the rest of you.”

“Wait, what?” Okay, now Shishido was far less amused. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Oh, yes.” Atobe smirked, the bastard. “I’m thinking worksheets, to be filled with a partner, of course. As a caring senpai, you’d want to make sure Ootori is well-informed, ahn?”

“What the —” He felt his cheeks heating up, unable to look at Choutarou. “You can’t do that!”

“On the contrary, I very much can. After all, I’m in charge of the curriculum.” Atobe somehow looked even more smug right now, if at all possible. “I’m thinking a couple of birth videos, too. You know, to make an adequate impression and all.”

And, honestly. Why the fuck were they the ones getting punished for Atobe’s poor life decisions?

*

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to ask that?” Keigo lifted his eyebrows, though he didn’t look up from where he was scratching his dog. Beat was awfully excited about his new surroundings, and Keigo was trying to get him to calm down.

“I’d rather ask now than have you come to that conclusion later.” Genichirou sighed. “I’ve seen how you’re used to living, Keigo. Your wardrobe is probably bigger than this room. You have servants. It’s not that far-fetched to think you would realize this is not enough for you.”

“Give me some credit.” Keigo looked up at him. “I’m spoiled, not stupid. You don’t think I realized this before agreeing?”

“Knowing the theory is not the same as living it in practice.” Genichirou averted his eyes. “I don’t want you to be… disappointed.” It stung, knowing that he could not provide his mate with the best, but that had always been inevitable.

“Hey.” Keigo stood up only to sit down on the bed next to him. Beat whined for a moment at being abandoned before running off to sniff at all the new corners. “Look at me.”

Genichirou turned his head towards Keigo, still a bit reluctant. Once his eyes met Keigo’s, though, he found he couldn’t look away.

“I chose this.” Keigo held his gaze. “I weighed my options, and decided that being here with you is more important than massive gardens and private pools. As long as I have my tennis clothes and school uniform, I can survive without thirty dress shirts in slightly different shades of purple.” He ducked his head now, nuzzling at the crook of Sanada’s neck. “I can’t promise never to act like a brat, because I know myself better than that. Also, you will definitely have to hold me back so I don’t go overboard buying things for the baby. However, I promise I won’t change my mind about this, and certainly not about you.”

Genichirou closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Keigo. As long as he had his mate in his arms, he could handle anything else. “I wish I could give you everything,” he murmured. “But I swear I’m going to do my best to keep you happy and safe.”

“I’d say something about how you’re being overly serious, but I suppose it’s about time we both get serious about these things.” Keigo pressed in closer. “Can’t keep acting like kids if we’re going to be parents, ahn?”

“Indeed we can’t.” Genichirou swallowed. He could still barely believe it. A child, Keigo was carrying their child, and in a matter of months they would be a family.

“I’m still going to do everything in my power to beat Rikkai, though.”

Genichirou couldn’t help but grin. Trust Keigo to break through his sour mood so easily. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

This year’s tournaments would be interesting, even if he didn’t get to play Keigo directly.

*

Even after all these years, there was still something special about facing Hyoutei.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that the Hyoutei High team was still more or less the same as their team back in middle school. Seigaku meanwhile had lost some of their old line-up, Echizen in the USA and Tezuka in Germany leaving Oishi trying to fill in as the captain. He liked to think he was doing a fine job, but facing Atobe of all people made him wish Tezuka had been standing in his place.

Oishi supposed it was a sign of respect that Hyoutei was actually using their regulars against them even though they were still in the prefectural tournament. Rather more surprising was the fact that Atobe was not only playing, he was playing singles three.

“I wanted to make sure I get to play,” he explained, and Oishi couldn’t even bring himself to be insulted. Even Inui admitted that there was never any guarantee of the outcome when facing Hyoutei; both sides liked their surprises too much and had a habit of improving under pressure. All they could do was play their best and hope fortune was on their side this time.

Atobe seemed to be serious from the beginning for once, not wasting time playing defensively. It was for the best, really, considering he was going against Kaidou. Doing a stamina battle with him was always a gamble.

It was an interesting match, one that everyone was watching with rapt attention. Even so, Oishi was somewhat startled by the rather extreme reaction from the Hyoutei regulars when Atobe reached for a wide shot and ended up falling down.

“Atobe!” Some of them seemed about to actually run to the court, only to halt as their captain snapped his fingers.

“Calm down, all of you.” Atobe threw Kaidou a smirk, ignoring the glare and hiss he got in return. “I suppose I’ll have to finish this thing soon before you all fret too much, ahn?”

True to his word, Atobe brought the match to its conclusion rather soon, beating Kaidou with a respectable margin. Oishi should have stuck around to watch the singles two, really, yet he couldn’t help but follow as Atobe walked away from the courts. He still wasn’t sure if he should approach, really, only to get the choice stolen from him as Atobe stopped by a vending machine and spoke up.

“Something the matter?” It was somewhat weird, seeing Atobe buying a drink from the vending machine. Somehow Oishi hadn’t thought Atobe was the type to drink, well, regular people stuff.

“Ah. That is.” Oishi rubbed the back of his head, searching for words as Atobe popped open his soda can. “Are you all right?”

“Of course.” Atobe lifted his eyebrows. “Why would you ask? I would hope my match was quite adequate.”

“Nothing wrong with the match.” It had been quite impressive, as was only expected of Atobe, but then he hardly needed to be told that. “However, the reactions of your players were a bit worrying.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose I should apologize on their behalf.” Atobe shook his head. “I fear they may be getting overly protective of me. Which can’t be helped, really, considering this was my last match for the season.”

“What do you mean?” Oishi frowned. “You aren’t going to give up tennis, are you?”

“Not give up, no. However, I have concerns other than my team, now.” Atobe touched his stomach with his free hand. “And as this little one has absolutely no sense of timing, I’ve decided it’s best for me to bow out at this point.”

“…You’re pregnant.”

“That would be correct.” Atobe smirked, hand still lingering over his stomach. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t spread it around too much just yet. It will no doubt come out when I don’t take to court in Kantou, but I’d like to keep the rumors at bay as long as I can.”

“My regulars will be curious.” If some of them weren’t already hiding in the bushes, eavesdropping. “We’ve played against you often enough that they know that outburst was not exactly ordinary.”

“Oh, feel free to let them know if you think they can keep it down for another month or so.” Atobe shrugged. “We’ve decided there’s no point in hiding things in the long run. I just don’t want the word to spread too far and wide while things are still somewhat… delicate.” There was a brief look of uncertainty, almost fear, on Atobe’s face before it was hidden underneath his usual smirk.

“Understandable.” Oishi nodded. “I’ll make it clear that they are not to spread the news around.” He paused. “Congratulations, by the way. To you and Sanada both.”

Atobe gave an exaggerated sigh. At least Oishi thought he was exaggerating it, but with Atobe that was not always so clear. “I suppose it would be too much to expect at least someone to be willing to pretend that we haven’t been painfully obvious about being together.”

“Last time you had a match against Sanada, I found Inui and Yanagi running a betting pool on whether one of you would drag the other for a kiss over the net. I would say the tension hasn’t been terribly hard to spot, even if not everyone is necessarily aware that it has crossed from mere interest to a relationship.”

“Well, if anyone is still in the dark, that’s going to be fixed soon enough.” Atobe chuckled. “And clearly, my team isn’t helping.”

“Ah. It’s good that they care.”

“Indeed.” There was a small smile on Atobe’s face, now, rather unlike his usual smug smirks. “In that at least, I am… fortunate.”

Well. For once, Oishi didn’t think he had much reason to worry.

*

Only Atobe, Yuushi was sure, would start showing up earlier after moving to Kanagawa.

According to Atobe, this was because he’d had to give up on his usual morning rides and was making up for it by showing up to morning practice on time for once. Judging by some of the grumbles Yuushi had overheard, the truth had more to do with the fact that Sanada had a habit of waking up ridiculously early and there was only so long Atobe could convince himself to stay in an empty bed, but Yuushi was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one who was happy to ignore that part of the situation. Knowing that Atobe and Sanada were a thing was fine, but if he started actually considering their newly built domestic life, Yuushi wasn’t sure he could ever take Sanada seriously again. Which would be fine, except there was a non-trivial chance that they would have to play each other before the season was over, and he didn’t need to get distracted every time he looked at his opponent.

Whatever the reason, though, Atobe was already in the locker room by the time Yuushi arrived, looking over the plans for the week’s club practices. Apparently Atobe had thought of something quite suddenly, as he was standing there shirtless, his tennis shirt lying on the bench.

“I’m assuming there’s something wrong to have you so distracted?”

“It just occurred to me there’s a general student assembly on Thursday, so we need to take that into account.” Atobe frowned, snapping his fingers in thought. “I’d rather not cancel practice when we’re getting so close to Kantou, but I can’t stay late since I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“It’s just basic training, right? I can handle that.” Yuushi shrugged, walking over to his own locker. “I mean, unless you have anything special in mind, I’m perfectly capable of keeping an eye on things.” Goodness knew he’d done the same for too many morning practices to count, though afternoon practice tended to be more involved than the basic warm-ups and drills that were on the schedule until Atobe showed up.

“You sure?” Atobe lifted his eyebrows. “We’ve got practice matches scheduled. Even if I draw up the lineup beforehand, it’s still a lot of organizing.”

“Hey, it’s still all about shouting at people. If I run out of breath, I’ll recruit Shishido to fill in. Seriously, I know you like to think everyone is utterly incompetent compared with you, but we’re not absolutely helpless.” Yuushi glanced at Atobe to add some witty quip, but instead was left staring.

“What?” Atobe met his gaze with a glare. He’d turned halfway to face Yuushi, still sans shirt. Which meant his midsection was very much visible.

“You have a stomach.” Yuushi probably sounded more astonished than he should have, but he couldn’t really help it.

“Yes, I have been informed it’s an important part of human anatomy.”

“No, I mean… you have a belly. A baby bump.” Atobe’s stomach had been slim and flat about as long as Yuushi had known him, the lines slightly rounded by the added softness of an omega body but still very defined. Now there was a small curve to it, no doubt still easily disguised by clothing but obvious when Atobe stood there bare from the waist up.

“Ah.” Atobe blinked, glancing down and then up at Yuushi. “You can tell?”

“Oh yes. You didn’t know?” He’d have thought it was obvious.

“I’d noticed, and Sanada’s commented on it before, but I figured we’d obviously be paying more attention than other people.” Atobe actually smiled. “Good thing I’m done with first trimester, ahn? Since it seems this won’t stay under wraps for much longer.”

“Oh, no. Atobe Keigo being anything but perfectly slim, plus not playing at Kantou? The rumors will be flying wild the moment you show up.” Yuushi smirked. “Of course, since you and Sanada aren’t even trying to be discreet anymore, I’m pretty sure rumors would get started regardless.”

Atobe groaned. “Yukimura has already informed me that as long as Sanada is around for his matches, he’s free to spend the rest of his time at the tournament as he wishes. Which, judging by the way Yukimura was smirking, means that there will be a lot of fussing in my future.”

“Is Sanada like that at home, then?” Okay, so his curiosity won over the plan not to think about their domestic life. So sue him.

“It comes and goes. Some days he seems to think I’m incapable of even taking the stairs without help.” Atobe rolled his eyes. “He’s worse about it when there are other people around, so it’s probably some sort of protective alpha instinct. Which, I know he can only control that to an extent, but it’s not exactly making me hopeful that he’s going to be reasonable during the tournament.”

“Well, if he gets too bad about it, we’ll remind him to behave.” Yuushi adjusted his glasses. “Of course, that still doesn’t answer the most pertinent question.”

“And what would that be?”

“Simple.” Yuushi grinned. “If you’re already starting to show, are you going to need a maternity tennis uniform by Nationals?”

And really, a father-to-be should not have been using such foul language.


	5. In Which Atobe Is Emotional

Something was going on, and Sengoku was going to find out what.

Of course, the easiest way would have been to simply ask any of the many people spreading gossip around, but for one thing he knew all too well that was rarely the most reliable source of news, and for another it wasn’t nearly as fun. He could have asked Dan-kun, who no doubt already had half a notebook filled with all the Kantou gossip ranked in order of most plausible to ridiculous, but the kid was stressing over their upcoming matches and probably didn’t need Sengoku interrupting his frantic analysis. As such, Sengoku simply told me others he was coming back in a moment and headed off. Even if he didn’t find out anything interesting, at least he could take the opportunity to get some flirting done.

The one thing he’d caught from all the murmurs was that Hyoutei was the center of attention, which gave him a starting point. It was easy enough to know where to find Hyoutei, they weren’t exactly shy about drawing attention after all. After getting the general direction from a passerby he soon spotted a crowd of familiar uniforms and headed over.

There was a match going on, some school he didn’t recognize no doubt getting soundly beaten by Hyoutei, but that wasn’t what interested him. For one thing, it was obvious that many of those gathered around the court weren’t watching the match at all, their attention more drawn towards the Hyoutei bench. Sengoku couldn’t see any obvious reason for it at first, all he could see was Atobe and a few of the other regulars, except —

Atobe shifted to say something to Kabaji, his folded arms coming to a rest at his sides for a moment. The difference in his stance drew Sengoku’s sharp eyes to the way his t-shirt fell and the body moving underneath. He couldn’t say for sure with the small movements and the distance, but he could have sworn…

“Sengoku! Hi!”

Sengoku spun around, grinning as he saw Momoshiro. “Momo! Are you telling me Seigaku hasn’t dropped out to give the rest of us an easier time, after all? How unlucky.”

“You wish!” Momo laughed. “We’re going to show you we’re even stronger now!”

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” A friendly challenge was always welcome, after all. “Don’t think we’re going to go down that easily!”

“It wouldn’t be any fun if you did, now would it?” Momo grinned, then glanced at the match. “You’re watching Hyoutei, huh?”

“Just decided to find out what everyone’s gossiping about.” Sengoku lifted a suspicious eyebrow. “You wouldn’t happen to know, would you?” After all, Hyoutei and Seigaku were on surprisingly friendly terms considering they seemed to hate each other every now and then.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” Bullshit. That grin definitely belonged to someone who knew more than others. “Atobe’s not part of their roster for the tournament, you know.”

Atobe wasn’t playing? Yet he was there with the rest of the team, wearing his uniform and watching the match. And the way his body looked just a little off compared with the Tokyo Prefecturals, a little softer around the midsection…

“You’re kidding me.” Okay, maybe his mouth hang open a bit, but surely he couldn’t be blamed for it. “Sanada’s gotten seriously lucky, huh?”

“Seems like it.” Momo nodded, still grinning. “Though really it’s lucky for the rest of us, huh?”

“Because Atobe’s not playing? Maybe. Because Sanada’s probably going to be playing twice as hard to show off to his mate? Not so much.” Sengoku shook his head. “You think they’re finally going to stop pretending they’re not involved?”

“Let’s hope so or their wedding’s going to be pretty awkward.” Momo’s grin got just a bit wider.

Right. Stupid Seigaku getting along with Hyoutei.

If Sengoku had hoped to distract Dan-kun from his worries with the news, he was sorely disappointed when he brought this delicious bit of gossip to his team only for their little one to give him an unimpressed gaze. “Yes, and?”

“What? That’s all you’re going to give me?” Sengoku gave a dramatic sigh. “I go out of my way to bring you crucial data about a rival team and you can’t even pretend to be surprised?”

Dan turned his eyes back to whatever chart he was scribbling down in his notebook. “Sengoku-senpai, I investigate relevant data. It’s what I do. Also, Akutagawa-kun gets very chatty over ice cream. I could tell you Atobe-san’s due date if you’re curious?”

“Wait, what?” Okay, now he was feeling a bit hurt. Or maybe amused. It was hard to know what to feel when Dan of all people got snarky. “You’ve known about this for who knows how long and didn’t think to mention it to your dear senpai?”

That actually got him a glare. Since this was Dan-kun, he had trouble taking it seriously. He might have grown in the last few years, but his glares still made Sengoku think of a grumpy puppy. “That’s private information, Sengoku-senpai. I’m not going to spread it around until Atobe-san decides to make it public. I let Minami-buchou know that Atobe-san will probably not be playing since that would affect our lineup if we go against them, and I factored increased alpha instincts into my calculations on Sanada-san’s current statistics. Anything else is between me and my notebooks.”

“And Akutagawa’s sweet tooth, apparently.” Sengoku couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re unusually fierce about this, huh?”

Dan shook his head, though it was unclear if that was in reaction to Sengoku or his data. “I’m an omega, too. If I was pregnant, I wouldn’t want people spreading it around without my knowledge.”

Sengoku stuck his hands in his pockets, eyebrows rising. “If you were pregnant, I’d need to have some serious words with Akutsu.” Sure, Dan wasn’t twelve anymore, but he was still, well, Dan. Sengoku couldn’t help but want to protect his innocence, even if the existence of it was rather dubious at this point considering Akutsu had long since stopped pretending not to care and instead made it very clear he considered Dan his mate, anyone else’s approval be damned.

“Good thing I’m very meticulous about birth control, huh?”

Honestly, if Dan-kun was so very concerned about their lineup, he could have used a little more care not to break his poor senpai.

*

“We’re getting married.”

“Well, yes, that is the plan.” Genichirou looked up from his sword, lifting his eyebrows. Keigo looked annoyed, which was not exactly unusual. Genichirou was fairly sure he wasn’t the cause, so at least he was safe from the ire. Probably.

“No, I mean, forget waiting. Let’s get married as soon as we can arrange it.” Keigo huffed, sitting down next to him and leaning on his shoulder. Genichirou set his sword aside. Clearly maintenance would have to wait.

“Your parents?” It was a reasonable guess. There were a fair few things that could make Keigo annoyed, he was hardly what one would have called low maintenance, but since the reason was apparently related to their plans this seemed like a likely cause.

“Yes.” Keigo sighed, his tone dejected. “Apparently they decided that actually sticking to a schedule is too much to ask, so they mailed over a document I can present to prove that they consent to the marriage. So, you know, they don’t even have to try to be there.”

“Keigo.” What was Genichirou supposed to say to that? His parents’ lack of involvement was a sore point for Keigo even on a regular day, but obviously this was worse than that.

“So, you know. Since it obviously doesn’t matter to them if they’re around, I don’t see any reason to try to work with their schedule.” Keigo’s hand sought out his, squeezing. “Consequently, I see no reason why we should wait any longer.”

“Well, you aren’t even eighteen yet.” Still, Genichirou squeezed back. “A lot of people would see that as a reason to wait.”

“You think I’m going to change my mind before October?” Keigo snorted. “Besides, I’m an omega, so the minimum age for getting married is lower. Which is obviously stupidly old-fashioned, but since the law exists, I see no reason not to use it to my advantage.”

“Hn.” Genichirou turned his head to nuzzle at Keigo’s hair. He could smell his own scent there, faint but present. It made him feel warm inside. “Would you be fine with not having a big wedding, though? I don’t mind either way, but those take time to arrange.” And goodness knew Keigo had a habit of making a big production out of just about anything.

This at least made Keigo pause, no doubt considering this. “I can have a big party whenever I want,” he then decided. “Right now I’m more concerned with making you mine.”

“It goes both ways, you know.” Genichirou disentangled his hand from Keigo’s to reach his arm around Keigo instead. “You are also going to be mine.”

“Mmm… I can live with that.” Keigo chuckled. “So, how about it? Want to marry me?”

“I would think I have made my opinion on that clear.” He kissed Keigo’s hair. “Dealing with some paperwork seems like a small price to pay for getting to call you my husband.”

“I like the sound of that.” Keigo lifted his head to catch Genichirou in a proper kiss. “And my parents can go screw themselves.”

And, well, Genichirou could not disagree with that.

*

“So, Yuushi.” Gakuto didn’t quite drape himself over Yuushi’s shoulders, though that was only on a technicality, in that he was very much over one shoulder. “You have any idea what Atobe’s scheming?”

“Really, now, Gakkun. Why would you think our dear captain is scheming anything?”

“Uh, let’s see. He told us to gather at a fancy restaurant, which he has apparently reserved entirely, and now we have Rikkai coming in?” Gakuto nodded towards where familiar figures were indeed approaching. “Doesn’t seem like his usual thing.”

“I know as much as you do.” Though he could make some guesses. “Why don’t you wait for Atobe to show up and explain?”

“Because I don’t want to wait, duh.” Gakuto turned to look at the Rikkai players drifting into the restaurant. “Oi! You have any idea what’s going on?”

“So you’re in the dark, too? Fun.” Niou dropped down at the closest empty seat. “Sorry, no idea. All we got was an address and a time and the order to be here or else.”

“It was a pretty serious ‘or else’, too,” Marui added lightly. “Believe me, when Sanada gives you one, you do what he says.”

“I have to say I’m intrigued.” So even Yukimura was in the dark, huh? That was surprising. “Particularly since Genichirou tends to be quite punctual, yet he is nowhere to be seen.”

“I bet this is all Atobe’s idea,” Hiyoshi grumbled. “He loves making an entrance.”

“Undoubtedly.” Yuushi chuckled. “Not much to do except wait, huh?”

Things could have gotten quite tense, with the most obvious link between their teams absent and Kantou not that far behind, but it seemed everyone managed to forget about rivalries for the moment. At the very least there were no fights breaking out by the time the front door opened one last time, so Yuushi counted that as a win.

“I see everyone is here, then.” Atobe marched in, looking far too satisfied with himself. Sanada followed him, along with a few people who resembled Sanada enough for Yuushi to guess family. “I do apologize. There was something of a mess with the paperwork.” As if. He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Paperwork?” Yanagi lifted his eyebrows. “And what paperwork would that be?”

“Our marriage registration.” Well. Who’d have known Sanada actually knew how to smile? At least Yuushi was pretty sure that was a smile. “The officials weren’t quite clear on whether we needed any additional paperwork due to Keigo’s dual nationality.”

“Marriage registration?” Jirou sat up straight, wide awake. “That — you got married?”

“That we did.” Atobe smirked, looking far too happy with himself. “Now, feel free to order whatever you’d like, I’m covering the bill. This is the closest thing you’re getting to a wedding reception any time soon, so make sure to enjoy it, ahn?”

This brought on a wave of questions and congratulations all mixed together, which Atobe responded to with grace and wit and Sanada mostly with slightly embarrassed grunts as they got to their seats. The Hyoutei regulars got introduced to what apparently were Atobe’s new in-laws, Sanada’s parents and grandfather and his brother’s family. They actually seemed somewhat more emotive than the regular Sanada, not that that was saying much.

“Good to see you lot are actually human,” Shishido grunted, because Shishido couldn’t even pretend to be manners. “Was starting to wonder if being grumpy is a family obligation for Sanadas or something.”

“I should certainly hope not,” Atobe said, smoothly interrupting any response this might have gained from his spouse and his family. Though judging by their expressions, just about everyone but Atobe’s Sanada found the statement amusing. “It would be utterly dreadful to try to change my personality so, ahn?”

“Wait, what?” Taki blinked, looking up from the menu. “You mean you’re taking his name?”

“Indeed.” Atobe’s smirk had a little too much teeth to be entirely happy, but his eyes were sparkling like he’d just won in an exciting match. “I figured that if my parents aren’t going to show any interest in their potential heir, they can go find one somewhere else.”

“For the record, that was all Keigo’s idea,” Sanada added. “Not that I’m opposed, of course, but I’m also not trying to steal your captain or anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We know that not even you could make our dear captain do something he doesn’t want to.” Yuushi allowed his smirk to get sharper for just a moment, the one and only time he would remind Sanada that there were other people interested in Atobe’s well-being, too. “Clearly he’s consented to whatever claims you may have laid on him, since you’re still breathing through your face and not a hole in your gut. Beyond that, I’m all too happy not to know any details on what either of you might make the other do.”

Huh. He hadn’t thought Sanada was even capable of blushing. Yuushi wasn’t sure what was more amusing, Sanada’s embarrassed expression or the way half of Rikkai and even some of Sanada’s family were basically bent over laughing. And judging by Atobe’s smirk, he wasn’t even going to get told off for the teasing.

Clearly, this was going to be an interesting evening.

*

“What,” Keigo said with a sharp tone, “is this?”

“Uh, what does it look like?” Oshitari lifted his eyebrows, waving a hand at the pile of things on the table in front of Keigo. There were packages wrapped in various pastel colours, topped off with a cuddly-looking teddy bear. “It’s a baby shower, obviously.”

“It’s ridiculous is what it is.” Keigo leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. The gesture drew Genichirou’s attention to his gently curved belly, as though he needed any more incentive. “Do you really think we need any of this?”

Genichirou rolled his eyes at Keigo’s usual lack of tact, but chose not to interfere. This was a team thing; the only reason Genichirou was there at all was because they had needed him to make sure Keigo was actually present.

“Well, you do have a baby on the way.” Ootori looked awfully earnest. “They need a lot of stuff.”

“Certainly. Stuff that we’re more than capable of acquiring without any help.”

“Oh, stop being a fucking asshole.” Shishido folded his arms over his chest. “Nobody’s claiming you can’t look after your brat or whatever. We all know you could just buy out the baby department of any fucking mall ten times over.”

“Then what is the point of this?” Keigo waved a hand at the pile of presents. “If you don’t think we can provide for our child, why would you do this?”

“Because we care, okay?” Mukahi huffed, leaning against Oshitari’s shoulder. “No idea why, but we want you to be happy. We want your sprog to have cute shit. And even if you could buy everything you ever set eyes on, you can’t just buy a teddy bear Kabaji made himself or a baby outfit Jirou picked on his own or any of the other shit your fucking friends got for your kid because for some damn reason we wanted to make you smile!”

For a moment Keigo simply stared at them, speechless for once. Then, his eyes welled up with tears.

“Atobe?” Akutagawa sounded panicked. “Hey, are you all right? We didn’t mean —”

“Y-you,” Keigo sobbed. “You guys…”

“Hey.” Genichirou stepped forward, setting a hand on Keigo’s shoulder. “Keigo. You need a moment?”

“N-no. I — I’ll be fine.” And yet, Keigo reached up to grasp his hand for a moment. He then reached forward, picking up the teddy bear on top of the present pile and hugging it to his chest. He was still crying, and Genichirou’s instincts were screaming at him to do something about it, but while he didn’t know exactly what was going through Keigo’s mind he could make a reasonable guess.

Keigo could afford anything he could possibly want, everyone knew that. On top of that, he loved treating the people he cared about with nice things. It had been something of a point of contention earlier in their relationship, with Genichirou feeling uncomfortable accepting the constant generosity. Either way, the outcome of this was that Keigo was not used to being at the receiving end of such gestures. With all that, he probably would have been overwhelmed by this even without the pregnancy making him more sensitive than usual.

Clearly Genichirou wasn’t the only one coming to this conclusion, as the expressions of the Hyoutei players all softened. The next moment they were all crowding around Keigo, no doubt hoping to settle him.

It wasn’t easy, leaving the room while his mate was in obvious distress. However, Genichirou liked to think he was ultimately in control of his instincts, and this wasn’t about him. Keigo needed to see that his team cared about him, and Genichirous presence would not help with that.

He took his time making tea, partly to give them time and partly because he did have a sense of hospitality, thank you very much. When he returned to their room with tea for everyone, Keigo seemed to have recovered for the most part, busy bickering with Mukahi about something or other.

Good. Genichirou still didn’t really know how to handle a crying Keigo.

Keigo didn’t really speak of the incident, even after his team had left one by one. Still, it wasn’t like Genichirou needed him to say anything. Not with the way he carefully folded away all the new baby clothes and gave the teddy bear pride of place on his nightstand right next to the ultrasound prints.

Genichirou held him even closer than usual that night, just in case.


	6. In Which the Nationals Happen

By now, it was clear the word about Keigo had spread around to everyone.

Genichirou’s instincts apparently couldn’t decide what to do about that. On one hand, it was satisfying to know that everyone could clearly see that Keigo was taken. On the other hand, he didn’t like the way people kept wandering over to get a glimpse of Hyoutei’s pregnant captain. Hyoutei wasn’t playing at the moment so Keigo was currently holding court on a bench some way from the actual matches, surrounded by Hyoutei regulars as he studied the tournament schedule.

“You really don’t have to hover around me all the time, you know.” The words were sharp, but Keigo’s expression was more amused than anything. Well, perhaps a little exasperated as well, but still. “Shouldn’t you be worried about your own matches?”

“My team is two courts over. If they actually fail enough to need me when we are still in the second round, they can come get me if they dare.” Genichirou paused. “Also, Seiichi may have told me to come check on you. Apparently I was getting a bit too restless.”

“So this is his way of distracting us? How devious of him.” Keigo was smirking, now. “You know, Oshitari told me about a most curious rumor.”

“Oh?” Genichirou frowned. That expression from Keigo rarely led to anything good.

“Apparently some people think you got me pregnant on purpose.” Keigo seemed to find this idea very humorous. “That is, Yukimura told you to do so to keep me out of the Nationals.”

“Preposterous.” Genichirou clutched at the back of the bench Keigo was sitting on. “I would never do such an underhanded thing, nor would Seiichi ask it of me.”

“I know that. Let the idiots amuse themselves with their gossip. Goodness knows it could be much worse.” After a beat of silence, Keigo added, “Stop scowling. If you think our relationship has never been the target of malicious rumors before, you are deluding yourself.”

“That is not exactly going to make me any happier.” Genichirou sighed, but relaxed his grip. A little, at least. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? Because I’m not more… expressive.”

“Oh, hush.” Keigo huffed, looking back at his schedule. “We haven’t been open about our relationship until I got pregnant. Of course some people are going to assume our feelings aren’t sincere. The fact that your face is made of stone isn’t anywhere near as important.”

“Hn.” He frowned. “My face is not stone.”

“Oh, please.” Keigo grinned at him. “I’ll soon start worrying you’ll scare our baby the moment they see you.”

Genichirou sensed the ball coming before he saw it, tennis instincts mixing with those that screamed at him to protect his mate. He instantly drew Keigo closer to his side, stepping between him and the threat. It never reached either of them, though, with Kabaji’s racket sending the ball flying in the opposite direction.

A growl rose from his throat as he turned to look in the direction of the ball’s origin. A player in Kabuto High’s uniform was smirking at them, racket still in hand. “Oops,” the player cried out. “My hand must have slipped.”

Genichirou was about to rush over, Kabaji right beside him, but the familiar snap of Keigo’s fingers halted them both. “No.” Keigo’s voice was sharp, though Genichirou couldn’t help but notice he sounded a bit shaken underneath it all. “I will not have any of you disqualified for violence.” This made several other Hyoutei players step back, too, though they all huddled closer.

“Keigo, he tried to hurt you.” Genichirou could barely hold back his rage. “He tried to hurt our baby.”

“I am aware.” Yes, definitely shaken. “As it happens, he did so in front of multiple witnesses, most of whom are likely to disapprove. We can settle this like civilized people, not wild animals. I would imagine the tournament officials will not be very pleased if you report this.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone.” Genichirou gave him a disbelieving gaze. “Not after that.”

“I have Kabaji. I will be fine.” As Genichirou still hesitated, Keigo sighed. “Genichirou. You can’t hover around me all the time. I would go myself, but I think we can agree this is the safest place for me.”

“Hn.” He still didn’t like this, but Keigo had a point. “I’m coming right back, though.”

“I would expect nothing else.” Keigo did not sound hesitant about that, at least, smiling at him. “Now, shoo. Kabaji will keep me safe until you get back. Naa, Kabaji?”

“Usu.” Kabaji sounded even more determined than usual.

“I will entrust him in your hands, then.” Genichirou paused, then leaned in to press a kiss to Keigo’s hair. Perhaps it was overly showy of him in front of so many people, but right now he figured they both needed the reassurance. Keigo certainly smiled as he drew away, so perhaps it was worth the embarrassment.

A couple of Hyoutei players followed him as he strode off in search of an official, a couple of players from other schools joining him. As he glanced to his side, Yamabuki’s redhead grinned at him. Sengoku, Genichirou was fairly sure.

“Hey, better have some impartial witnesses, too.” The grin turned slightly sharper. “Playing aggressive tennis is one thing, but we’re not going to stand by and watch stuff like that go down.”

“Hn.” Genichirou nodded. “That bastard is lucky Keigo stopped me.”

“So is Rikkai, I would say.” Sengoku shrugged. “You’ve got to stick in the tournament, right? Have to get the trophy for the baby.”

“That’s not the only reason I want to win.” Though he had to admit that was a rather appealing idea, too. Keigo no doubt would have pointed out Hyoutei also had a very good shot at victory, but, really. Genichirou wasn’t going to give up that easily.

It didn’t take too long to find an official who wasn’t currently busy with the active matches. Genichirou suspected he didn’t exactly give the most level-headed description of the incident, but the rest of his witnesses filled in where he got too angry. Perhaps he was coming across too agressively, but then, he was fairly sure he had an adequate excuse.

Much to Genichirou’s relief, the official seemed to take them seriously. Having checked the tournament schedule, he headed for the court Kabuto High was playing on. The captain looked surprised to have such a mixed group approaching, which Genichirou supposed was understandable enough. His own attention was instantly drawn to the culprit, who had apparently returned to his team, only to shrink back from Genichirou’s thunderous glare.

“That’s the one.” Genichirou didn’t even bother to conceal his growl.

“Can I help you?” The captain frowned at them. “Do you have some business with Kurosawa-kun?”

“I’m afraid there has been a rather serious accusation.” The official indicated their group. “According to them, your player purposefully hit a ball aimed at Sanada-san.”

“That’s bullshit!” The culprit looked offended. The nerve of him. “It was going for the Hyoutei bitch!”

“Yes. Captain Sanada of Hyoutei High.” Genichirou dug his fingers into his arms to hold himself back. “And thank you for confirming that there was nothing accidental about the shot.”

The Kabuto captain frowned. “While that’s certainly not acceptable, I don’t see how —”

“He was aiming for the baby!” Mukahi burst out before Genichirou could calm himself down enough to speak. “Our captain’s pregnant so he’s not even playing, and that asshole shot a ball at him on purpose! If Kabaji hadn’t blocked the shot, it would have hit him right in the belly!”

Genichirou grit his teeth. Being reminded of how close it had been, his anger flared up again. “…I’ll leave the rest to you.” If he didn’t leave now, he might attack the bastard after all.

He was so focused on heading away before he lost his temper, it took Genichirou a moment to realize someone was following him. Then the footsteps caught up to him, Sengoku giving him a curious gaze.

“So. Captain Sanada, huh?”

Genichirou nodded, not bothering to conceal his clipped tone. “What of it?”

“Hey, I’ve got no problem with it. Just surprised, that’s all.” Sengoku grinned. “I’d have thought it’d get around that Atobe is not Atobe anymore.”

“Yes, well, there hasn’t exactly been enough time for the gossip to spread, considering we haven’t been married for very long.” Genichirou allowed himself a small smirk even as he was still internally fuming. “Apparently the paperwork hadn’t gone through by the time of the drawings, but the tournament roster is up to date.”

“Well, congrats! It’s about time.” Sengoku’s grin got even wider. “Also, Muromachi owes me lunch now! He was sure you’d wait for the season to be over before getting married.”

“Ah.” Genichirou frowned, trying to recall the names of Yamabuki players. They were mostly the same as they had been in middle school, but they hadn’t gone directly against Rikkai often. “The little one?”

“Nah, that’s Dan-kun. Nobody bets against him, he’s a data player.”

“I know the type.” Goodness knew he wasn’t going to enter a bet with Renji anytime soon. “I feel like I should be offended that you are betting on my relationship status with Keigo, but I suppose that’s a lost cause by now.”

“By about three years or so.” Sengoku chuckled. “Well, you go on to check on your mate. Better make sure they know it’s being handled before all of Hyoutei goes off to seek revenge, right?”

“Hn.” Genichirou didn’t necessarily see anything amiss with that idea, but Keigo would probably not appreciate it. And besides, Sengoku had a point. He needed to make sure his mate was all right. Preferably by holding him close and growling at any intruders. Nothing less would make the protective rage within him settle.

Keigo took his possessiveness remarkably well, which further proved how badly he had been startled by the incident. In fact, he still hadn’t removed himself from Genichirou’s arms by the time a very smug-looking Mukahi returned to inform them that Kabuto High had been disqualified for violent conduct.

“Good,” Genichirou grunted, though he wasn’t about to let go of Keigo just yet. Not until the voice at the back of his mind stopped growling at any potential threat.

Nobody was allowed to hurt his precious little family.

*

When Genichirou finished his match, Keigo was gone.

He realized this instantaneously as his eyes scanned the Hyoutei bench before he’d even shaken his opponent’s hand. He knew for a fact Keigo had been there when the match started, remembered getting a smirk in response to his boast about showing Keigo once and for all which team was superior. Yet now there was no sign of Keigo, just an empty spot on the bench where he had been sitting.

“I would comment on your match, but it seems you have other things on your mind.” Well. Trust Seiichi to get straight to the point the moment Genichirou stepped outside the court.

“What’s going on?” He frowned, barely pausing to get a drink of his water. “Where’s Keigo?”

“Apparently he started getting dizzy halfway through your match.” Marui popped a gum bubble, still looking glum over their defeat in doubles two. “Something about how pregnancy makes him more likely to overheat? Anyway, Jackal and Kabaji pretty much dragged him out of the sun.”

Genichirou only managed to hesitate for a fraction of a moment as Seiichi chuckled. “Oh, go on. You’ve done your part, haven’t you?”

“Hn.” Genichirou tugged at his cap. “The matches are still going.”

“And you wouldn’t be paying any attention, anyway.” Seiichi waved his hand. “Go on. He’ll need you to comfort him when we crush the rest of Hyoutei.”

"…If you’re sure.” As though Seiichi would have said that if he didn’t mean it.

“Genichirou. Go.” Seiichi lifted an eyebrow, now. “You need to check in on your mate, don’t you? So, shoo.”

Well. That was pretty clear.

Genichirou wasn’t really sure where to even start, which was why it was good that Mukahi waved him over the moment he walked away from the Rikkai bench. The redhead was fiddling with his phone, aiming it at the court as doubles one was called up.

“Hi, stoneface. If you’re looking for captain dearest, he’s in one of the dressing rooms over there.” Mukahi waved a hand in a vague direction.

“Ah. Thanks.” Genichirou nodded. “Is he…”

“Oh, he’s fine. He insisted on watching the matches anyway, so Yuushi was doing a video call with him to show off your match. Yuushi’s battery ran out so it’s my turn now, just trying to get the settings right.” Mukahi tilted his head. “Well? Go on.”

Had Genichirou been more given to sarcastic comments, he might have remarked on the fact that both his team and the opponents apparently wanted to get rid of him. Instead, he headed off to find Keigo.

It wasn’t that hard to find him, really, with Jackal leaning against the doorframe of one of the dressing rooms. He waved Genichirou in. “I suppose I can get back now?”

“Ah, yes. …Thank you.” He rather hoped Keigo wasn’t actually in need of people by his side, but he was glad there were people looking after Keigo even when Genichirou couldn’t.

“Hey, he’s basically honorary Rikkai by now. Also, it was pretty entertaining to hear the running commentary on your match.” Jackal smirked a bit. “He may be a bit grumpy, just a warning.”

“Consider me warned.” Genichirou stepped into the dressing room, glancing around. “Keigo?”

“Over here.” Keigo was lying on a bench, his head pillowed on a folded jacket. Kabaji was sitting next to him, holding a phone up for Keigo to see. That would be Mukahi’s video call, then. “Please don’t shout, I have a headache.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Genichirou walked closer, crouching down next to Keigo. “Ah. How are you feeling?”

“Just peachy.” Keigo rolled his eyes, running a hand along the soft curve of his belly. “I got a bit tired and these mother hens all decided to panic.”

“You nearly fainted when you stood up.” At least he could trust Kabaji to be truthful. “The heat isn’t good for you, even when you’re not playing. You know you need to stay hydrated.”

“Why? You lot seem to take care of that for me.” Keigo was very nearly pouting.

“I would tell you to be reasonable, but I think that’s a lost battle to begin with.” Genichirou ducked his head. “…I got worried when I couldn’t see you when my match ended.”

“Hey.” Keigo reached out to touch his arm. “I’m fine, okay? Yes, I got a bit overheated and dizzy, but thanks to the combined meddling of both our teams, I’m now out of the sun and getting rest and water. The greatest threat to my well-being is the very real possibility I’m going to die of frustration not being able to watch the finals in person.”

“Then let’s make a deal.” Keigo always liked deals. Genichirou supposed it was the one trait he had inherited from his parents. “If you take it easy for this match, and get plenty of water, we’ll go watch singles one from the benches.”

“We’re in the lead two to one. What makes you think there’s going to be a singles one?” A challenge, huh. Clearly Keigo wasn’t feeling too unwell after all.

“There will be, because Rikkai is going to win.” Genichirou smirked.

“Oh, please. Hyoutei will defeat you easily.”

“You seem very certain.” Genichirou’s smirk got a bit wider. “Certain enough to make a bet?”

“What do you have in mind?” Keigo lifted an eyebrow, looking at him past the phone screen.

“Simple.” Genichirou lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “If Hyoutei wins, I will go to Hyoutei University with you. If Rikkai wins, you will come to Rikkai University with me instead.”

“Deal.” Keigo did not hesitate for a moment. “I hope you like white and blue.”

“Only on you.” Genichirou leaned closer to the phone. “Hear that, Mukahi? We’re not just taking the gold, we’re stealing Keigo, too.”

“In your dreams, bee boy. Also, I hope you both understand what a fucking pain you’re going to make discussing any potential line-up, with two Sanadas in the same team.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Genichirou nodded, then stood up. “Right. I’m getting you a drink, Keigo. Kabaji, keep an eye on him for me.”

“Usu.” Kabaji nodded firmly. Well, good to know he had some sort of an ally in this mess.

If Keigo had been grumpy at first, his mood certainly didn’t improve as Niou and Yagyuu took a narrow win over Shishido and Ootori in doubles one. Genichirou kept his word, though, and he and Kabaji accompanied Keigo back to the courts to watch the final match. It was going to be interesting, Oshitari was an excellent player, but he had no doubt Seiichi would triumph in the end.

Genichirou nearly forgot to keep an eye on Keigo as he focused on the match. Watching Seiichi play seriously was always a treat, and this time was certainly no exception. Not even the genius of Hyoutei could prevail, not against Seiichi.

The cry Genichirou let out when Seiichi secured the title for Rikkai was not exactly dignified, but he figured he’d earned a moment of triumph. The next moment he was swept away in the celebration as Marui and Kirihara practically dragged him off to meet the rest of the team.

As he turned to look at Keigo, he very nearly froze. Niou was standing next to a very unimpressed Keigo. An unimpressed Keigo with what appeared to be Genichirou’s jacket draped over his shoulders.

“Oi, Sanada! Got your trophy right here!”

“I would appreciate if you didn’t call Keigo a trophy husband.” Though he had to admit, Keigo looked great in a Rikkai jacket.

“Your players are getting out of hand, Sanada.” Keigo looked upset, though Genichirou suspected it was due to their defeat more than anything.

“Oh, please, Sanada.” Genichirou strode closer, unable to stop grinning. “We both know you wouldn’t wear anything you don’t want to wear.”

“Have to get your scent somehow, since there’s no way I’m letting you touch me anytime soon.” And, fuck, how could Keigo drive him crazy in the best of ways even when he was trying to be snarky?

“I suppose in that case I won’t give you that kiss I was planning on.” Instead, he crouched down in front of Keigo, leaning over to press a kiss to the curve of his belly. “Just you wait, little one. Next time it’ll be both your dads bringing home gold for Rikkai.”

As it happened, the most circulated photo of the tournament turned out to be one of Keigo stealing the cap right off his head while Genichirou was speaking to the baby, both their teams crowding around them, but it was very much worth it.


	7. In Which There Is a Baby

“You know, I could just get someone to do that.”

“Hush. I can figure this out.” Genichirou frowned, looking at what he had to assume were overly complicated instructions. Surely a simple crib should not have this many parts.

“Suit yourself.” Keigo stretched himself across their bed, apparently quite comfortable with his favorite pillow for company. “Just don’t come whining to me when you give up in frustration.”

“It’s not exactly a complicated structure, Keigo. I just need a moment to sort it out.”

“Sure.” Keigo smirked, not looking very convinced. “You know, I’m almost surprised your family doesn’t have a heirloom crib handed down generation to generation or something.”

“There probably would be one, if I went poking around in the storage rooms. I just decided that while the risk of an old crib posing a safety hazard was minimal, it still wasn’t a risk I wanted to take.” As this was met with silence, he glanced at Keigo. “What?”

“Nothing.” Then why did Keigo sound so choked up? “Just… you still surprise me sometimes.”

Genichirou frowned. “You’re surprised that I would prioritize the safety of our child?”

“Not that, no. God knows you already fuss enough to chase away any such notions. Just… I’m surprised it occurred to you to consider factors beyond tradition and sentimentality.”

“Keigo.” Genichirou gave him a serious look. “If you ever think I’m letting such things get in the way of the well-being of you or of our baby, I want you to tell me. No tradition or anything else is more important than that.”

“And there you go, already fussing even though nothing has happened.” Keigo gave him a smirk. “Don’t worry, I will have no problem voicing my displeasure if need be.”

“Good.” Well, he wasn’t sure good was the right word, but it was better than the alternative. If something was wrong, he wanted to know, even if he would have preferred there to be nothing to tell him about.

There was silence for a while, and Genichirou half expected Keigo to have drifted off for a while as he kept sorting through the various bolts and screws. Keigo seemed to take any opportunity for a nap these days, a habit that Genichirou was very much in favor of. Between his school work, exercise schedule, and the baby, Keigo did not let himself get enough rest.

“Hey, Genichirou?” The sudden question startled him. “What are your plans for the future?”

“Huh?” Genichirou frowned. “You, our family, and tennis. You know that.” Had he not made that clear enough? Was Keigo doubting his commitment?

“Well, obviously I know the general direction of things. I’m more interested in the particulars.” Keigo propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand resting on his belly. “We’re going to be graduating high school in a matter of months. We should probably have some sort of an idea of what we’re going to do after that, besides change diapers.”

“Hn.” Genichirou shrugged. “I suppose in that respect, my plans haven’t changed. I’m going to go on to Rikkai University, get a degree, and get on the pro circuit after that. I know I could start playing professionally earlier than that, but I’ve seen too many injuries not to want a back-up plan.”

“Serious as ever, I see.” Keigo hummed to himself. “I was always planning on going pro right after high school. It’s not like I have to worry about making a living either way. Now… I’m not so sure.”

“Oh?” Genichirou blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing, this little one is due at the end of the year. It’s not exactly likely that I’m going to be up to professional fitness level by the time we graduate.”

“Hn.” Well, that was not something he had an easy response to. It was bad enough that Keigo had missed the biggest tournaments this season.

“Oh, don’t look like that.” Keigo snorted. “It’s not like I have to give up tennis forever, you know. And besides, I’m not sure that’s still the best plan, anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” If anyone deserved a brilliant pro career, it was Keigo.

“Well, you know, I should probably think about what sort of an example I’m setting for the kid. Education is important and all that, after all.”

“It would make things easier, too,” Genichirou added. “Certainly more so than if you’re travelling the world while I stay here.”

“Indeed.” Keigo smirked a bit. “Also, I like the idea of getting a degree my parents would find useless. Something like literature, perhaps, or drama.”

“Well, whatever you choose to do, I’m sure you will excel at it as usual.” Genichirou abandoned the crib for the moment, climbing on the bed next to Keigo. Setting his hand on the curve of Keigo’s belly, he smiled down at the unseen child. “You’re very lucky, little bean. Your bearer here has a habit of climbing up to the top in anything he sets his mind to, so you can be sure he will also be a great father for you.”

“Oh, really?” Keigo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And are you going to mention any other fields where I have awed you with my prowess?”

“You’re good at tennis, and an adequate captain.” His loyalty to Seiichi would not allow him to give higher praise on Atobe’s captain skills than that, not even in this situation. “We both know you are a great student, and you play the piano beautifully.”

“Is that all?” Keigo smirked, reaching a hand to touch the side of Genichirou’s face. “Why, not a single mention of whether I’m a good lover or not?”

Obviously such a ridiculous question could not be tolerated. Genichirou felt Keigo’s smirk against his lips even as he leaned down for a kiss.

The crib could wait another while.

*

“You’ve been looking in the mirror for an awfully long time.”

Keigo scowled, giving Genichirou a glare through the reflection. “And? Going to make some comments about my being vain?”

“It was just an observation.” Genichirou walked closer, though, approaching him in the mirror. “Everything all right?”

“Just… thinking.” Mostly about what he was seeing, but that was probably obvious.

“You don’t look too happy.”

Keigo bit back a snappy response, turning his gaze back to his own reflection. It was him, yes, and yet it wasn’t. He was shirtless at the moment, his entire belly on show. It was easier to ignore when he was dressed, concealing some of the growing curve with his clothes, but standing there in his pants he couldn’t help but see it in entire stretch-marked, swollen glory. His chest was softer, too, the muscles he had worked so hard for concealed as his body prepared to feed the future arrival. It was nothing he hadn’t expected, of course, he wasn’t entirely clueless whatever Oshitari liked to say, but it was still… foreign, almost.

“Keigo.” Genichirou was right behind him, now, reaching out to settle his hands on Keigo’s waist from behind. Even that looked strange in the mirror, the familiar hands not reaching the front of his stomach as usual. “You look upset.”

“I look awful, you mean.” Keigo sighed, leaning his head back against Genichirou’s shoulder. “And it’s only going to get worse.”

“What do you mean?” Genichirou nuzzled at him, hands running over to the front of his belly and back to his sides. “You’re gorgeous, Keigo. I’m not sure it’s even possible for you to be anything else.”

“Right. Except I’m fat and clumsy and I don’t even know my body anymore.” On some level he knew that was not the case, knew that being pregnant and being fat were not the same thing, but it was hard to deal with even the most natural changes when he didn’t feel at home in his own body.

“I won’t deny the clumsy part, because you would just present evidence and get yourself even more upset. And I will not speak for how you feel. However, you are not fat, you are beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t get grumpy.” Keigo closed his eyes. If nothing else, at least he could enjoy Genichirou’s warmth.

“No. I’m saying it because it’s the truth.” Genichirou’s voice was low but firm. Clearly he wished to assure Keigo. “You are not fat, you are not ugly, you are nothing but lovely in my eyes. But if that doesn’t make you feel better about yourself, let me tell you something else.”

“Oh?” Far it be from him to waste a rare moment of Genichirou actually speaking about his emotions. More than that, he was volunteering the information, which was nearly unheard of.

“Even if that weren’t true, it wouldn’t matter.” Genichirou’s mouth ghosted near his skin. “You are my mate, Keigo. It’s true that you are… not unpleasant to look at.” Ah, yes, the famous Sanada compliments. “However, before anything else, I was drawn to your strength and will. You challenge me in all the best ways, and drive me to be a better man, in tennis and otherwise. You are everything I could hope for in a mate.”

Keigo huffed. “So basically, you’re telling me it doesn’t matter if I look awful.”

“No. I’m telling you that no matter what, you will never look awful to me.” Genichirou’s hands slid down to his hips. “Even at the risk of feeding your ego, you’re beautiful. Your eyes are like the sky, your body shows your strength and determination, and I love the feel of your hair in my hands. But that isn’t the point.” His voice got even firmer. “Even if one day your eyes turn cloudy and your hair brittle, even if your body loses its strength to age or accident or any other reason… You will still be beautiful, because nothing could take away your spirit, and that’s what makes the rest of you shine.”

“Ugh.” It was a good thing his eyes were closed, because it was the only reason he wasn’t crying right now. Stupid hormones. “Since when have you been so poetic?”

“You are a bad influence.” He could swear he heard a smile in Genichirou’s voice. “Either way, you are my mate. That will never change. You will always be mine.” Genichirou drew him even closer. “Do not doubt my feelings, Keigo. No matter what happens, I will not be swayed.”

“I hate you.” He could only barely get out the words, too choked up. “How can you just say things like that?”

“Don’t worry, I think I used up all my emotional expression for the next couple of years or so.” Genichirou pressed a kiss to his hair. “Now, come to bed and I’ll show you exactly how attractive you are.”

And, really, how could he resist such an offer?

*

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay home?”

“If I stay cooped up any longer, I’m going to murder someone. And you’re usually the closest person.” Keigo adjusted his kimono, throwing Genichirou a glare. “What, ashamed to be seen with your big fat husband?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Keigo.” Having lived together with Keigo since summer, he had come to the conclusion it was genetically impossible for Keigo to look anything but gorgeous. Right now he was even more beautiful than usual, round belly curving under the dark fabric of his kimono. “You’ve been complaining about how tired you are, that’s all. I was just thinking you might want to stay home and get some rest.”

“I’m going to be tired no matter what I do. I might as well get some fresh air rather than sit at home while everyone else is going out.” Keigo gave him a smirk, stepping closer to take Genichirou’s arm. Usually Genichirou would have thought he was just teasing, but between Keigo’s current balance issues and their crowded destination, he probably genuinely needed the support. “Maybe I should pray for this brat to get out of me soon, ahn?”

“Hn.” Genichirou’s hand itched for a cap to tug at. “I’ll buy you a charm for easy delivery.”

“Still, no harm in hoping it comes soon, ahn?” Keigo paused, looking at him, and then frowned. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking about that’s making you look like that. You think I can’t tell your regular scowls from the actually upset ones by now?” Keigo kept looking at him with those sharp eyes, then sighed, leaning against Genichirou’s arm. “…Hey. I’m happy to have this child, you know.”

He should have deflected, should have claimed there was nothing going on, but instead he found himself sighing. “…It’s hard to believe when you keep saying things like that.”

“Well, believe me when I tell you this.” Keigo squeezed his arm, no doubt to make a point. “I want this child. I have no regrets about my choices. None of that means I can’t be impatient to get my body back to myself, or be frustrated at having to wait.”

“Keigo is right, you know. The tail-end of pregnancy can be pretty tiring.” Genichirou’s father appeared, smoothing out his own kimono jacket. His mother trailed behind, visibly amused. “I certainly prayed more than once for you to get out already.”

“Father!” Genichirou groaned. “You don’t need to encourage him.”

“I’m not encouraging, I’m sympathizing. Also, we can all use a little encouragement from time to time. Particularly when your nicest kimono won’t fit right.” His father patted Keigo on the shoulder. “So, are you boys ready to go?”

The shrine was crowded, as could only be expected of the first day of the new year. Genichirou held Keigo close to his side, unwilling to let his heavily pregnant mate be jostled by the crowd. Keigo took this about as well as could be expected, which was to say, he rolled his eyes every time Genichirou found himself growling at a stranger pushing past too closely but in general allowed himself to be shielded with only minimal grumbling. Though then, he had already declared he was going to count on Genichirou’s large frame to clear a way for them, seeing how Kabaji hadn’t been able to join them for the visit, so he had rather literally asked for it.

Keigo did look slightly less annoyed now that they were out and about, though he was still far from cheerful. The long line to pray got to be too much for his tired feet, so Genichirou left him to rest on a bench afterwards, his parents assuring him they would look after Keigo. It was somewhat distressing, seeing Keigo of all people cursing his tired feet after nothing more than walking and standing around, but then the circumstances were hardly ordinary.

He got some amused yet approving gazes for spending perhaps a bit too long choosing the perfect charm. The old priest selling the charms chuckled at him. “First child, huh?”

“Ah.” Genichirou nodded briefly. “Due any day now.”

“Well, your mate is lucky to have someone so caring!” The priest’s eyes twinkled. “Could I also interest you in a charm to protect your new family?”

By the time Genichirou returned — with just the charm for easy pregnancy and delivery; he hadn’t wanted to jinx anything by buying a charm for the baby just yet — Keigo did not look like he considered himself lucky. Rather, he was holding a hand to his belly, his other hand held by Genichirou’s mother.

“About time you got back, Genichirou.” His father nodded at him, looking serious though not upset. “I was about to come get you.”

“What? What happened?” Genichirou instantly rushed to crouch in front of Keigo. “Keigo? Are you all right?”

“I’m as fine as could be expected.” Why, then, was there such a pinched look on Keigo’s face? “I think we should be leaving, though.”

“Why?” Genichirou frowned. From how eager Keigo had been to get out of the house, that was surprising.

“Because either my prayers were heard or these are the worst false contractions I’ve had so far, and I’d rather err on the side of caution if the alternative is not making it to the hospital in time.”

Well. Clearly he had gotten the charm just in time, then.

*

Genichirou had never seen anything so beautiful.

It was a tough contest, to be sure. After all, he had seen brilliant sunsets, masterful paintings, and the way Keigo’s eyes sparkled as he smiled. Even so, none of those could come even close to compare.

Their baby’s face was rather squished and red, her eyes tightly shut. She had yet to let him see her eyes, but her eyebrows and what little hair she had were dark against her skin. She was small enough to fit comfortably in the crook of his arm, swaddled in soft clothes and sleeping peacefully.

Keigo was asleep as well by now, getting some well-deserved rest after his ordeal. Genichirou supposed he could have let their daughter get to bed as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to part from her just yet. Not now, when he finally had her in his arms.

A silent buzz from his pocket alerted him to the fact he had forgotten something. Shifting her enough to free his other hand, he dug out his phone. A message from Souta flashed on his screen, asking for updates.

He wasn’t very adept at using his phone with one hand, but he’d rather struggle with it than set her down just yet. Browsing through his contacts, he added the captain of every team they were on friendly terms with to the recipient list. Surely they could pass on the word to anyone else who was curious.

_‘We have a healthy alpha daughter, Sanada Naomi, born just past midnight on January 2nd. Keigo and the baby are both doing fine.‘_

With the message sent, he stuck the phone back into his pocket. Perhaps he should finally put her to bed and get some sleep himself. Tomorrow would no doubt be busy. Tomorrow, and many more days.

He could hardly wait.


	8. Epilogue, Or, in Which There Is to Be Tennis

Contrary to popular belief, Seiichi did not, in fact, hate Keigo.

There had been a time when he had, sure, a time when he had been younger and more vulnerable and had come out of hospital only to find his best friend’s attention stolen by someone who could not possibly be good enough for him. As time had passed and Genichirou had never wavered from his side, though, Seiichi had come to let go of his mistrust, particularly as Keigo had never made any effort to push them apart. It wouldn’t have been unthinkable at all, considering Seiichi was also an omega who was very close to Keigo’s alpha mate, but even when their relationship had still been tense Keigo had never shown much actual jealousy. Seiichi supposed he had Kabaji to thank for that. Keigo had Kabaji, of course he would understand what it was like to have a friend who might just as well be family.

Now, they were never going to be the best of friends, not like Seiichi was with Renji or Genichirou. They were too different in some aspects for that, and far too similar in others, leading to inevitable clashes time and again. However, they got along well enough underneath all their mutual snark and teasing, though they were never going to agree on whose tennis skills were superior. It was hardly Seiichi’s fault that Keigo refused to see the obvious truth of the matter.

All in all, Seiichi considered himself to be a reasonable man, and it was only reasonable to be happy that his best friend had someone so important in his life. Keigo got on his nerves on occasion, sure, but he also made Genichirou smile, and that was enough to make up for all the arrogant quips in the world. Also, Naomi-chan was probably the most precious thing to ever wear a custom-made Rikkai tennis uniform, not that Seiichi was ever going to admit that aloud. Keigo would probably just take it as a personal compliment somehow, and they couldn’t have that.

No, Genichirou, he was absolutely not being childish. He was simply upholding the natural order of things.

The bottom line was, he didn’t hate Keigo. However, he did get annoyed sometimes, particularly when the door of the locker room opened in the middle of his sentence.

Seiichi lifted his eyebrows as Keigo walked in, tennis bag over his shoulder and a baby carrier in his hand. “Fashionably late as always, Sanada?”

Okay, so Genichirou made funny faces whenever Seiichi referred to his husband as such. Seiichi was juggling his tennis training schedule, captain duties, and a full class load; he had to get his entertainment from somewhere.

“Practice doesn’t start for another ten minutes, I might note.” Keigo set the sleeping baby down next to the bench, then started changing his clothes without even glancing at them. “I will be changed and out on the court by the time it does, don’t worry.”

“Under ordinary circumstances, that would be true enough, yes.” Seiichi shook his head. “However, I distinctly recall telling you to show up early today if you want to have any say in our line-up for our first round of the regional tournament.”

There had been no particular contest for the position of captain, thankfully, for all that Keigo had been all too happy to aid in their unceremonious takeover of the Rikkai University tennis club. Naomi-chan was his first priority, he had announced, and therefore he could not commit himself to the duties of running the club. Of course, it had gone without saying that Keigo was hardly going to be overly respectful of Seiichi for his position as captain, but they respected each other as tennis players, and that worked well enough as a compromise. They were both adults, after all, they could work around some hierarchical bullshit without causing Genichirou too many headaches.

“Oh, you didn’t get my message?” Keigo blinked. “I’m sure I texted Genichirou after lunch.”

They both turned to look at Genichirou, who had been staying out of the way of the discussion until then. He blinked, then grunted, looking just a bit sheepish. “…I didn’t check my texts.”

“See, Naomi-chan? This is why you’d better take after me in communication skills.” Keigo gave an exaggerated sigh, pulling on his t-shirt and then fitting the baby sling over it. Seiichi still wasn’t sure if baby-wearing during practice was a form of sneaky weight training or just a way of introducing her to tennis early on. Either way, he approved.

“If you’re so proud of your communication skills, I’m sure you can just tell us what you want.” Seiichi gave Keigo his sweetest smile. “Unless, of course, you would like to be reserve?”

“Actually, I would prefer to be in doubles.” Keigo shrugged, as though he hadn’t just said something utterly unbelievable. “I don’t mind who I’m playing with. God knows we’re not going to get much of a challenge on the regionals level anyway.”

“What the fuck?” Niou was the one speaking up, but Seiichi suspected he was voicing the thoughts of most of those present. Even Genichirou looked as surprised as his usual lack of self-expression would allow. “Since when have you specifically requested to play doubles?”

“Since we got the exact timetable for the first round.” Keigo smirked, lifting Naomi-chan from her baby carrier and handing her over to Genichirou so he could settle her on Keigo’s back. “Depending on how long the doubles matches run for, any of the singles matches could fall during Naomi-chan’s mealtime. Seeing how none of you are likely to fill in for me in that respect, it would be for the best to make sure I’m definitely not playing at the time. Playing doubles is the simplest solution.”

“Wait, what?” Marui blinked. “You’re going to breastfeed her at the tournament?” They were all more or less accustomed to the occasional baby snack time during practice, but an official tournament was still somewhat different.

“Well, I’m certainly not planning on starving her, so that would be the logical conclusion, yes.” Keigo smirked, glancing at Seiichi. “Unless that’s a problem, oh most respected captain?”

Seiichi chuckled, letting the sarcasm slide. “Certainly not. After all, Naomi-chan needs her food so she can grow up big and strong and play excellent tennis.” He flashed Keigo a beaming smile. “Of course, anyone who is at the benches during the matches should be wearing an appropriate outfit.”

Keigo snorted. “You know, most people just drop not so subtle hints about photos when they want to make sure their baby gift gets used.”

“Really? That sounds dreadfully boring.” Seiichi smiled again, glancing down at the line-up draft. “Our opponent’s doubles two is known for their endurance. I think between you and Jackal we can beat them at their own game.”

“You can count on it.” Keigo’s smirk was full of teeth, and if their opponent had seen it they might have done well to be afraid.

“You know,” Genichirou murmured as the rest of the regulars started to file out of the locker room, “you don’t actually have to come up with excuses to convince Keigo to dress Naomi in the Rikkai outfit you got for her.”

“Oh?” Seiichi smiled. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Genichirou tugged at his cap, clearly trying his best not to flush. “He’s even got her a second one just like it, so she’ll have one to wear to matches even if one is dirty.”

“I know that.” Seiichi tilted his head, rather enjoying Genichirou’s baffled expression. “Who do you think told him where to order one?”

“Huh?” Genichirou frowned. “Then why…”

Because it was still difficult for Keigo to admit that having his family close by was infinitely more important than loyalty to his old school. Because he was too proud to acknowledge that his pride was not his first priority anymore. Because Seiichi was the same way, and he knew better than anyone how hard such pride could be to swallow.

“It’s a captain thing,” he said aloud, still smiling without fail. “Maybe you’ll understand one day.”

For now, there was tennis to play.


End file.
